


oceans (between you and me)

by Bre



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: (more tags to come), Angst, Angst and Feels, Exes, F/M, Grief, Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 05, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:19:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8226541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre/pseuds/Bre
Summary: My ficlet collection for Season Five.It will (hopefully) come to include speculation fics, wish fics, canon fics, elaboration fics, pretty-much-everything-related-to-Season-Five fics...This collection is rated Mature as of right now. If it changes to Explicit, I'll put it in the Author's Notes.





	1. Touch (5x01)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song Oceans by Seafret, because I am rubbish at naming things.

“Do you need an ice pack or something? That looks bad. Like swelling bad.” Felicity prodded his face, making Curtis jerk back with a hiss. “Sorry, sorry. It doesn’t need stitches, so that’s good. It would be good if you needed them, too, because I’m great with stitches. Not that I’m saying I wished you needed them. I don’t need practice. I have enough with that guy over there.”

Oliver glanced over at where Felicity stood on her toes, gently poking Curtis in the cheekbone. He was hunched over, letting her do it despite his obvious pain, clearly humoring her. The bruise was swelling, turning a nasty dark color that wouldn’t be going away for quite some time, but past that, he was okay.

Which was good. He still didn’t know Curtis that well, but the thought of losing someone else to something as generically _stupid_ as street thugs was… unsettling.

It was the only reason he’d so readily agreed to training Curtis: he needed to know how to defend himself.

Oliver’s gaze switched back to Felicity.

She was grimacing, still up on her toes to reach Curtis’ face.

Despite himself, his eyes traveled down her lithe form, tracing the generous slopes the light blue dress emphasized, all the way down to her legs… 

Oliver snapped his eyes shut and turned back to the computers. 

The look lasted all of one second, but that didn’t matter. Felicity, in that moment, was _seared_ into his mind’s eye. That always happened with her; it had since he’d started becoming aware of her during their first months working together. But lately, it was more vivid, like his mind was working in overdrive to capture every single thing, just in case. In case he never got the chance to unzip her out of a dress again, to run his hands over her gentle curves, to watch the lean muscles in her legs move as she slipped her heels off, emphasizing her gorgeous calves as she walked up the stairs…

_No_.

Oliver shook his head, refocusing on the screens before him. On the new recruits. There was still lead in the pit of his stomach at even the _idea_ of forming a new team, but Felicity was right, just as much as John was.

It was time. 

That didn’t make him feel any better about it.

When the familiar feeling of doubt started seeping into his stomach, he pushed it back down.

Felicity’s voice brought him back.

“You should definitely ice that. Here, let me…”

“I _will_ , Felicity,” Curtis replied. Oliver looked back once more to see the man’s hand on Felicity’s shoulder, stopping her from running to the med bay. The hand lingered and Oliver felt something so totally irrational that he clenched his jaw, spinning back to the computer screens. “You do remember that I’m married to a physical therapist, right? Paul has ice packs all over the place.”

“But you also have to _get_ to Paul first,” Felicity said, raising her eyebrows. “And that’s about twenty minutes away. That’s quality icing time you would be wasting.”

That earned her a dry, slightly incredulous chuckle from Curtis. “I’ll be fine. I just really want to get there, which, as you just pointed out, takes twenty minutes. So the sooner I go…”

“Right. Okay. Fine. But text me when you get home.”

“Yes, mom.”

Oliver didn’t have to look back to know Curtis was rolling his eyes at her, and that she rolled hers in return. The easy friendship between them Oliver made him smile, a tiny tick of the lips that felt foreign anymore. He listened to Felicity pat Curtis on the arm, and the sound prompted Oliver to look back, catching Curtis’ eye. 

The two men shared a nod, a quiet confirmation of what Oliver had agreed to: Curtis was joining the recruits. With a tight resolved smile that had an edge of nervousness that he couldn’t hide even if he wanted to, Curtis gave him a little wave - something that had Oliver raising his eyebrows in something akin to amusement - before turning to leave, leaving just them.

“See?” Felicity said breezily behind him. Oliver pressed his lips together, shoving the urge to look at her down. Instead, he spun back to the screens. She appeared at his side, keeping their now customary six inches between them as she smiled down at him. “New team!”

“New team,” he repeated warily. She leaned on the desk, angling her head to catch his eye, but he didn’t look at her. He just kept re-reading the same descriptive paragraph for ‘Wild Dog.’ He forced himself to wonder how the kid’s leg was doing. “Yeah.”

“At least try to contain your excitement,” Felicity said with a little smile. When his lips pulled up in a bland smile, she sighed in faux-exaggeration before pushing off the desk. “Alright, I’m gonna head out.”

He heard the same words every single night when she left. 

It never, ever escaped his attention that she never used the word “home.”

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice soft. “Okay. Night.”

He sat up a little straighter, not leaning back just yet to give her time to pass behind him before he did. He knew he shouldn’t watch her walk away, but he let himself do it anyway. It wasn’t sexual, not like it had been _before_.

It was the only time he was able to openly watch her without her seeing.

Oliver listened to the heels of her shoes, counting them, knowing exactly how many he needed before he could turn to watch her… 

But he didn’t get the chance. 

On step two, as she said, “Have a good night, Oliver,” he felt the air next to his head moving.

Her hand landed his shoulder. 

Oliver’s heart stopped dead in its tracks, his lungs seizing.

They didn’t touch. It was some unspoken rule between them that they’d agreed to without even realizing it. One day it was perfectly normal, and the next, there was a gap between them at all times. No matter what. There weren’t anymore soft brushes of their shoulders or fingers grazing arms or her poking him in the chest when she talked about something she was excited about. They didn’t do that anymore, and they hadn’t for a long time.

Her fingers were so very warm, and he felt it even through his dress shirt.

Before he could think twice, his hand moved to cover hers.

It was pure instinct, completely natural, something he’d done hundreds of times before. He just _gravitated_ towards her, a base need to feel her touch as much as to reciprocate it. There was no intention behind it, which somehow made it worse. Because this wasn’t _before_. It was now. 

And they didn’t do that anymore.

They _both_ knew that… and yet, neither of them moved.

Oliver’s eyes slipped shut, every single inch of him focused on his hand… on the electricity sizzling across his nerves, honing in on her skin under his fingers with an awareness that stole the air right out of his lungs. It took away his will to do anything but stay right there, because as long as he didn’t move, she might not either.

God, he missed her. So much it _ached_. They’d both agreed that it was best to put the past behind them, to _move on_ , but talking about it was one thing… 

Actually doing it was another thing entirely.

He caught the slight hitch in Felicity’s breathing, felt her entire body stiffen in the way her arm jerked, but she didn’t move. No, she did move, but not away. Instead, her hand shifted under his, twisting slightly to hold him back.

It was his turn to take a stuttered breath, his heart taking off.

Oliver tentatively tightened his grip on her, turning his head towards her. When she still didn’t move, he sighed, and he knew she felt his breath dancing over her skin.

They both moved, but just barely, taking this single second to touch… to _remember_. 

He slid his fingers across the back of her hand, moving up to her wrist. Only later would he realize he’d been trembling as he touched her… and that it got worse when she touched him back. Her fingers grazed over the inside of his wrist, slipping up his arm. She touched him back like it something she needed just as bad as he did, and that sent him over the edge.

A wall of want slammed into him, flooding his senses. It was a bone-deep pull in the pit of his stomach, slicing through his core, splitting his heart wide-open. Need replaced the low hum of adrenaline in his blood and he turned to her, his hand tightening around hers as he finally opened his eyes to look up at her.

The instant their eyes connected, the world around them faded.

Everything he was feeling was reflected in her eyes. They were bright, her pupils blown wide open, her lids fluttering lightly… but there was something, something he couldn’t quite read. It was almost a quiet desperation, a fathomless darkness he’d never seen there before, one he’d never wanted to see there. It was something he only saw when he looked in the mirror. 

They didn’t talk about everything that’d happened all those months ago… about how they fell apart… 

Or about Havenrock.

She was drowning.

It sparked something primal deep in his chest. Oliver furrowed his brow, the need for her touch morphing into something else as he wrapped his hand around her arm, pulling her closer.

“Felicity…”

The sound of his voice coinciding with his grip shattered the moment. 

It was suddenly too real, too much, and they jumped apart.

“Sorry,” he whispered as she rapidly shook her head, backing up a few paces. She ducked her head, closing her eyes, cradling the arm he’d been touching against her chest, almost like it’d been injured. “Felicity…”

“I’m gonna go,” she said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and then she plastered a smile on her face. It didn’t reach her eyes when she glanced at him again. The wall was back, the same wall he’d been seeing for a long, long time now. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t hesitate, she didn’t pause, she didn’t do anything but quickly avert her gaze and turn to leave. Her pace lacked the nonchalant air she usually carried around her as she hurried towards the exit.

It was almost like she could feel his eyes on her, like they were pushing her further away.

Oliver watched her until she disappeared, and then he didn’t move for a long, long time.

The End


	2. Something Real (post 5x05)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity isn't okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response to the last chapter! Season 5 has been quite a ride, hasn't it? Fics help me process.
> 
>  **Timeline** : Set a few weeks after 5x05
> 
>  **Warning** : Graphic description of nightmares re: Felicity’s PTSD and grief.
> 
> I’m trying to stay away from all social media, for my sanity. But sometimes I just have to write to make sense of canon for myself. It usually comes about in stages as I process, and this is one of them.
> 
> Please be aware that this ficlet falls in the 'humans are a fucking train wreck' category. Because they are. Because Oliver and Felicity are. (And because I am, because this gets pretty dark with Felicity’s PTSD.) One thing that I'm taking away from Season 5 right now is that Oliver and Felicity are human: they're messy as hell, and when it comes to each other, they're both flying blind right now, for different reasons. What's making it worse is that they think they know what they're doing, but saying something is done and over with is very different from that being the reality.
> 
> This is especially true for Felicity, considering what she’s been through very recently. This is simply my interpretation of what she might be going through.

It was always running.  

Her heart thundered in her ears, sweat making her skin slick, both from the heat and the fear. It beat inside her, a living, breathing thing that made her run faster, harder. But it wasn’t enough. It was still there, behind her.

She waved her arms, trying to warn them, to _save_ them, but nobody saw her. They didn’t know what was coming for them. They were oblivious… happy… content. 

_“No!”_

She screamed, telling them to go, but it was too late. The bomb beat her there, and just before it hit, they all stopped and looked up… right at her. She skidded to a stop, the gravel and rocks under her bare feet slicing through her flesh. Their gazes burned through her and she stumbled, her eyes never leaving theirs - all of them, they all stared her because _they_ _knew_ what she had done, that they were dead because of her - and then she fell. She crashed hard to her knees. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs falling on deaf ears. 

_“Run… please… run!”_

It was too late. 

_Screams._

The bomb hit and she had to look away. It fell in a giant whoosh, shoving her back until she tumbled over. The screams of thousands of people being killed filled the air as fire swept over the ground. She scrambled backwards, trying to run, but it chased after her with an intent that terrified her. It always caught her. Flames licked at her flesh, eating at her skin, burning her alive, but it was never enough to take her life, too, no matter how much she screamed.

Felicity batted at her clothes, at her arms and legs, trying to fight the fire. She looked down, trying to escape it… There was no fire. The pain was there, but her body was intact, unlike the dead landscape scattered with ashy, burnt bodies around her.

She was covered in blood. 

Their blood. 

She screamed. 

With a ragged shout, Felicity jerked awake. She sat up wildly, throwing the blankets to the side, thrashing under the sheets as she shoved herself back - _away from the flames, away from the blood, away from the ash, the only thing left of them_. She hit the headboard so hard it rocked against the wall, but she didn’t stop, still seeing her nightmare, still seeing their eyes on her. 

She could still feel the blood on her hands. 

“No,” Felicity whispered, rubbing them roughly, over and over.

It took her too long realize they weren’t slick with wetness, and that the only sounds in the room were her whimpers and the dry rasp of her hands running over her body, trying to wipe away blood that wasn’t there. But it was. It _was_. It was everywhere, every day. She saw it when she looked in the mirror; she saw it when she got dressed; she saw it coloring the water going down the drain when she took a shower. It was everywhere and it never went away, ever.

A ragged sob slipped past her lips as she whispered, “Stop, stop.” She wasn’t sure if she was talking to the nightmares that lived inside her - to the tens of thousands of people who resided in her soul - or to herself, telling herself to stop rubbing her hands.

It _hurt._

But she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t. 

Time slipped by in bits and pieces as she sat there, crying, whispering to herself, but she didn’t stop, not until she was too tired to do anything but let her hands drop to the mattress.

She collapsed against the pillows, her breathing uneven, coming in jerky movements that made her ribs ache. Her heart raced, beating too fast, but she couldn’t stop it. She didn’t know how. It made her lungs feel like they were too small, like it was demanding too much of her. Because it was. She didn’t have anything left to give. There was nothing but ashy dust inside her. She was a shell, nothing but the remnants of who she used to be.

A tear slid from the corner of her eye.

The salty liquid hurt her tender skin as it slipped down her temple, over her ear and into her hair. She didn’t wipe it away. She didn’t have the energy, not for anything but staring at the ceiling.

 _I need you_.

Felicity screwed her face up, shaking her head with a groan.

_No, no, no._

God, was that why the nightmares were back? Because he was…

Her chest tightened so fast and hard that it made her gasp.

Felicity sat up, pushing her hand into her breastbone, _hard_. Her heart wasn’t slowing down; if anything, it beat faster, a nervous staccato rhythm that flooded her limbs with uneasiness. She shook her head, fighting it.

“You wanted this,” she whispered.

The words were a stark contrast to the silence in her bedroom.

She was alone, that was problem number one. Billy hadn’t been able to meet tonight because of work, which meant he hadn’t been there to keep her mind off of, well, anything. Work was slow, thanks to the new task force that Oliver had put together, and the fact that Tobias Church was dead. The new threat that’d made itself known - _Prometheus_ \- hadn’t shown his face for a few weeks now. They were stuck in a false sense of calm, and they all knew it, but if there was one thing that they had learned a long time ago, it was to take those quiet moments and make the best of them. There was no such thing as waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel.

They had to make their own light.

Which is what she was doing with Billy.

And what he was doing with…

Felicity inhaled sharply, shaking her head as her chest tightened again. God, she didn’t even know her name. No, she did. It was the reporter, the one who had used Thea’s words against her, the one who’d had a vendetta against Mayor Queen. Except now something had changed. With them. Between them.

Her chest was _too tight_.

Felicity pushed the sheet back, crawling to the edge of the bed. The floor was cold against her bare feet - _tiny rocks sliced through the soles, making her bleed, reminding her that she would never move fast enough, never be enough to save them from what she’d done_ \- and she welcomed it as she stood up.

It was a mistake, because the world tilted.

She gasped, her arms flying out for something to hold onto, but there was nothing. Her knees gave out and she collapsed, too far away from the bed to fall onto. Instead she landed on the side, the hard edge of the bedframe digging into her back. It slid over the implant spot of her chip, a place that was always sensitive, but that pain was nothing compared to when she hit the middle of her back, hit the spot where her paralysis had started before her chip. A thousand tiny needles covered in fire slipped over her skin when she hit that spot. Felicity let out a sharp cry before she clamped her teeth together. She hissed through them, breathing through the pain as she flung her head back, letting it bounce on the mattress.

It was good though. She needed it. The pain pushed thoughts of _him_ out of her head, any thoughts of _her_ , leaving nothing but a sweet oblivion that was enough to take over everything, to let her breathe. It hurt, but it was good.

But it didn’t last.

No, because as the pain faded, it only reminded her that it was nothing compared to the pain she’d caused, that she’d done so much more and that she deserved so much more.

Would it ever be over?

_“No. It will always be with you. But it does get easier. You learn to live with it.”_

His voice echoed in her ear, so low and soothing, the voice he only used with her.

The need that roared through her took her breath away and before she could think, she was reaching for her phone on her nightstand. On what used to be his nightstand, on his side of the bed.

Her phone sat where his used to.

Felicity’s fingers shook as she unlocked the screen. There were notifications, hundreds of them, for articles and alerts and news bulletins, the things she needed when she couldn’t sleep at night. The things she needed even when Billy was there, because no matter how hard she tried, she could never let _go_ , not enough to get any real sleep.

Not like that night in the bunker, when she’d fallen apart, when he’d been there to catch her, in more ways than one…

_Calloused palms scraped up her thighs, fingers hooking into her panties; she shoved his shirt down, her lips on his collarbone, licking and nipping, making him gasp her name, press his face into her hair; fumbling with the buttons of his pants, her fingers shaking too much until she growled her frustration and just shoved them down his hips, making him hiss when it scored his flesh; stumbling against her desk, hard hands gripping her ass to lift her up; the bottle falling to the floor, breaking, sending glass scattering everywhere; her fingers wrapped around his thick hardness, his body shuddering against hers, his stubble scraping the column of her throat; yanking her hand away, so hard it hurt as he twisted her wrist in the band of his boxers; shaking her head when he asked her if this was okay, her fingers covering his lips before her mouth took their place; slithering her hand between them to position him where she needed him; his fingers curling around the back of her neck, pulling her against him; her hands fisting his hair as he filled her, bending her back over the table; his name on her lips, hers on his, their combined voices bouncing off the walls, filling the bunker_ _…_

The screen was the only light in the room.

Her thumb knew exactly where to go, exactly what route was needed to get to her favorites, to push on his name, to hover over the call button…

Felicity dropped her phone before she could do it and buried her face in her hands.

_No._

They didn’t do that anymore, and they hadn’t, not for a long time.

That didn’t stop her from wanting it.

From _needing_ it.

She groaned, dragging her hands through her hair, digging her nails into her scalp. Felicity pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her face into them, biting her lip so hard it nearly bled.

They were moving on. Both of them. She was only feeling this way because…

Because he’d gone on a date tonight.

Because he was with someone else.

Because he was touching someone else, using that soft voice of his, looking at someone else like she was the only precious thing in the world.

He didn’t look at her like that anymore.

Her chest tightened, making her gasp for air.

Felicity looked up with a groan, trying to fight it.

The room was suddenly moving, closing in on her. The walls inched closer, growing taller, _looming_ over her, like they wanted to wrap her up and suffocate her. The floor tilted up, threatening to shove her backwards, into a dark oblivion of nothingness. The thought of being there - _alone, forever_ \- had her moaning pitifully. (His name, it was always his name.) She stared at walls, telling herself to move - _to fight it_ \- but she was frozen. Her breathing grew faster, becoming harsher, her nails digging into her skull until the pain was too much.

Until _everything_ was too much.

Felicity thought she heard screaming, but the blood rushing through her ears was too loud.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there. She didn’t know how long it was until the walls moved back into place, until the floor stopped moving, until she stopped holding onto herself so tight her nail beds ached.

The only thing she knew was that her chest loosened, and that she could breathe again, and so she did.

Instead of staying there in the darkness, in the room that threatened to drag her down, to make her disappear, she pushed herself up. She couldn’t stay in here. Her legs were like liquid, almost giving out on her again, but she pushed through it. She didn’t remember grabbing her phone, but it was clenched tightly in her hand as she ran out of her bedroom.

Felicity made her way down the stairs. She didn’t bother with lights, she didn’t need them. The loft was freezing, and she shivered. She grabbed the green afghan thrown over the couch.

 _His_ couch, the couch he’d picked out when they’d rented out the house in Ivy Town.

A stab of regret and guilt sliced through her gut and she shoved the memories down. She tried to, at least, but it wasn’t enough. Her chest started tightening again, her lungs freezing on her.

“No,” she whispered, curling her fingers into her shirt, gripping it in a tight fist.

It wasn’t the walls this time, it was the air itself. It was stale, a tangible thing that filled her lungs with quicksand.

She couldn’t _breathe_.

With a sob, she lurched to the balcony. The lock was in place and she struggled with it, her fingers shaking too much to hold onto anything until it finally gave

Felicity wrenched the door open and shoved herself outside. The air was crisp, so chilled that it made her throat hurt. It felt good - _pure_ \- as she gasped for air. Her lungs were still tight, her chest constricting them… but she was outside.

There were no walls, the air wasn’t wrong, she just needed…

Felicity closed the door behind her with a solid snick, closing her eyes.

She could _breathe._

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, letting herself just _breathe_ before she sat down on one of the chaises sitting in the corner. She hugged herself, bending over, putting her head between her knees. She took small measured breaths. It was so much easier out here, in the open, where things were still…

 _Theirs_.

Her heart stopped.

She didn’t let Billy out on the balcony.

Felicity groaned, the sound quickly followed by a broken sob at the thought. She didn’t let Billy out here because this was the one untainted spot she had left. That had only been confirmed the night _he_ had called her, wanting to talk, and instead of using the door, he’d jumped onto her balcony.

_Their balcony._

It was still theirs. It would always be theirs. Countless nights staying up and talking; hours spent looking at the few stars visible through the light pollution; gentle kisses, soft-spoken words… and more. They’d made love on one of these chairs, when the power had been out one night. She’d waited up for him another night, when John had called for help. He’d jumped onto the balcony just like he had a few weeks ago…

He wouldn’t be doing that anymore.

It took a while, but her breathing finally evened out.

Felicity sat up, looking up at the sky. She had to blink a few times, tears blurring her vision. One of them slipped down her cheek. The heat of it compared to the cold night air made her shiver. Her glasses were still inside, but she didn’t need them. She’d long ago memorized the cityscape, memorized which building was where, and how if she leaned out just enough, looking to the east, she could see the hint of mountains and the green forest far in the distance.

The way to Ivy Town.

She should go inside. It was too cold to stay out here, but she didn’t move. She didn’t want to. She felt better, and she didn’t want to argue with that. Out here she could think about her nightmare and not feel like the world was crumbling around her. Out here it was easier to think about him… about them… and about _her_.

About him seeing someone new.

Out here it didn’t feel quite real. She could still pretend that maybe it was all a dream. That the last year of her life hadn’t happened. That if she closed her eyes tight enough, she’d wake up in his arms, in their sunny bedroom in their house in Ivy Town, when things had been so simple.

Felicity closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The night air filled her lungs and when a soft breeze brushed over her face. She lay down, curling up under the blanket, her eyes still closed as she…

 _Wished_.

If she could just wake up then, she could make things better. She’d tell him she was helping the team, she’d tell him that there was another way, that they could make it work in Star City, that he needed to be the Green Arrow as much as she needed to be Overwatch. That it wouldn’t be easy, but if they _worked together_ \- as partners - they could make _them_ work.

Not for the first time, Felicity wondered if her lies during those months had been why he’d lied to her about William. It was illogical, completely, but she couldn’t help it. They weren’t comparable, not by a long shot, but she hadn’t been honest with him. Not about how she felt in Ivy Town, about how much she put all her happiness on him, about the fact that she woke up in the middle of the night to call the team, to help them out with whispered conversations in the basement.

He’d forgiven her, though; he hadn’t held it against her… not like she had with him.

But that was _different_. He’d lied to her face for months. He’d snuck off to Central City under the guise of helping Barry to see his son, to spend time with him and a woman he had a child with.

He’d been constructing an entire life without her, away from her…

The betrayal still burned deep.

Felicity closed her eyes, letting out a little sardonic laugh. God, she was a piece of work. She couldn’t take him back - she didn’t want to, she told herself. He’d betrayed her trust so thoroughly. He’d proven once again that he didn’t need her in his life for the big moments, that he could do those things with or without her. Whereas with her? She _needed_ him. And she’d told him that. She’d let him in, she’d _needed_ to let him in, and he’d been there.

But he hadn’t let her do the same for him.

He hadn’t even given her the choice.

It was unforgivable. To give so much of herself to him, and to only get a fraction back.

And yet, here she was, losing herself in the regret of letting him go because the thought of him with another woman made her want to _scream_. The idea of him touching someone else, of him cupping their face when he kissed her, of his undressing her, laying her down, making love to her, of him looking into her eyes with a soft promise of forever…

The forever that had been hers.

But she didn’t want that anymore, not with him. Because he’d proven he couldn’t give it to her, not like she wanted. Not like she deserved.

She couldn’t forgive him… but she couldn’t let him go.

But she already had.

 _Liar_.

Felicity ignored the tiny voice in the back of her mind.

She listened to the city around her instead, letting it drown out the noise in her head.

Her heartbeat was back to normal, Felicity absently noted. Her fingers weren’t shaking. She was shivering a little, but it was from the cold. She was okay.

She should go back inside.

Felicity didn’t move.

She looked at her phone. She unlocked the screen, but she didn’t get very far, because the last thing she’d looked at had been _him_.

His picture was a new one. She’d changed it a long time ago, from the one where he’d been hugging her from behind in bed one lazy Sunday - it was still on her phone, hidden away; she couldn’t bring herself to delete it. Now, his picture was one she’d taken two months ago, a simple one where he was giving her a tiny smile.

It didn’t reach his eyes.

Felicity traced the edge of his face with her fingertip.

Her finger itched to find the other pictures, the ones she didn’t look at anymore, but she didn’t. Instead, Felicity bit her tongue so hard she nearly bled before letting her hand drop, taking the phone with her.

 _Go inside_.

She knew she should, but she didn’t want to. She couldn’t, not yet. The thought of being in there didn’t make her chest feel like it was going to implode in on itself, but it still hurt.

Just a few more minutes…

“Felicity?”

 _Oliver_.

Felicity gasped, sitting up with a start, her eyes flying to her phone. His voice was tiny, coming through the speaker, because _she’d called him_. Her thumb must have brushed over the screen.

White noise rushed through her ears, her chest tightening all over again - oh god, what if he was still on his date? What if he’d gone home with her, or what if she was right there, what if…?

_No._

“Felicity? Are you…?”

“Oh frak,” she whispered, fumbling with it as his voice came through again, saying something she didn’t catch. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. Her throat was still closed up from her sobs. She didn’t bother putting the phone up to her ear, shaking her head as she spoke over him, saying, “I’m sorry, I… I pushed the wrong button,” before she hit end.

The call disconnected.

Felicity stared at the screen, watching it blink before it blinked back to his profile. A second later, his face lit up the screen as he called her back. She jumped, tossing it onto the chair next to her.

It landed facedown.

“Oh god,” she moaned, covering her face. What was she _doing_? “Oh _god_.” Felicity curled into a ball, burying her head under the blanket.

Her pain was hers, it no longer concerned him. It hadn’t for a long, long time. She hadn’t _let_ it for long time. And she’d shut the door on the possibility of that ever again when she’d asked Billy out. When she’d shut the door on _them_.

Shame lit up her chest.

Felicity laughed into her palms, the sound coming out more like a weepy moan.

At least she could breathe now.

Time slipped by.

She closed her eyes, pulling her legs up closer to her chest. She should really go inside, but she was comfortable, for the first time in hours. Some part of her recognized it was because she’d heard his voice; she’d gotten the tiniest bit of relief from that, the only relief she could get from him.

But even that was more than she deserved.

Tears filled her eyes again, and she squeezed them until they went away.

She didn’t deserve to feel his touch anymore, and her body knew it. Her chest tightened all over again and she let out a desperate sigh, digging her fingers into her breastbone until it hurt.

Felicity felt the irrational to call him again, but she didn’t. She left her phone where it was.

 _Go inside_.

In a few minutes.

Sleep pulled at the edges of her mind. It was cold, but she was warm enough, and more comfortable than she’d ever get inside. She didn’t care how cold it was out here, it was the last connection she had…

A soft rustling pulled her back to consciousness.

Felicity blinked her eyes open, but it was dark. _Too_ _dark._ A quick bolt of panic hit her before common sense kicked in. Her head was still buried in the blanket. Tiny specks of light poked through the holes in the blanket, just enough to tell her that it was still night, that the city lights were still on, and that…

The gentle thud of something heavy landing on her balcony sounded next, and she jumped just as a shadow appeared over her.

Oh god…

 _No_.

“Felicity?”

“Oh god,” she whispered, closing her eyes tight, holding her breath. She didn’t move, hoping it was just a dream, that it wasn’t happening, but then the sound of his jeans and leather jacket crinkling found her ears as he crouched next to the chair.

Oliver touched her shoulder, shaking her gently, whispering her name again, this time with a little more urgency because she wasn’t moving. And she almost didn’t move. She almost pretended like she was asleep, because then he’d leave, right? God, this was all she’d wanted - _him_ , on her balcony, where he belonged with her - but now that he was here, she wanted to be anywhere else but here with him.

Because it meant she was as broken as she feared.

“Hey,” Oliver said, moving to tug the blanket back.

She beat him to it.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity croaked, pulling the blanket down as she sat up.

It was too fast, just like before, and the world spun a little. She groaned, her hand flying up to her forehead, but Oliver was there this time.

He grabbed her shoulders with a soft, “Hey, easy,” his hand coming up to her cheek to tilt her face up to his. Felicity melted against him with a bone-weary sigh. His touch was so soft, so perfect. His callouses were just like she remembered, the ones on his palm, but it was his fingers she remembered the most, the fingers he used with his bow.

They smoothed over her ear and into her hair as he ducked down to catch her eye.

“Felicity, talk to me.”

The tears came on before she could stop them, followed by a tiny sob. It came out in a little huff, and she bit her lip before anything else could slip out, but not before he heard it.

His voice was low and raspy with concern as he inched closer, trying to catch her eye, saying, “Felicity-” but she cut him off.

She shook her head, sitting up taller, moving to push his hand away. She didn’t though. She couldn’t. She didn’t want him to stop touching her, which made everything _so much worse_. God, she didn’t know what she wanted or what she was doing.

She didn’t know _anything_ and she _hated_ it.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I just… I had a…”

“What?” Oliver asked. His other hand settled on her knee. It was so casual, so simple, so easy. Felicity stared at it, her lips trembling as he asked, “What happened?”

How did she tell him that her nightmares about Havenrock with back in full force, and that she though they might have been triggered by seeing him at the restaurant with another woman?

Felicity huffed out a laugh.

She was _ridiculous_.

And _pathetic._

Felicity stared at his hand. His fingers were long, cupping her thigh gently, and he was warm.

She was cold. She was _always_ cold, and tired, and _god_ , she couldn’t do it anymore. She didn’t want to. He was here. He was always there when she needed him, no matter what, and it made her love him more.

But she couldn’t love him. He wasn’t hers to love, not anymore.

“I…”

The words died on her tongue.

What was she going to say? What should she say? Felicity tried to think, to at least form a coherent thought, but the night of restlessness and endless sadness and exhaustion and _pain_ was catching up with her.

It’d started with his, _“I’m calling it early, actually. I have a, uh… I’m getting drinks. With someone.”_ Which had been _fine_ , because she wanted that, right? She _did._ It’d been fine… up until she actually saw them. And then Billy hadn’t been able to come over, leaving her to fall into a darkness she hadn’t been expecting, not in the least, which had in turn demolished all the carefully constructed walls she kept up nice and tight around her mind.

The nightmares just needed one tiny crack to come through again, sending her even deeper. The screams and blood and fire and pain and horror… She’d woken up needing _him_ , needing to feel his touch, hear his voice, feel his arms around her, to soothe them away.

But she couldn’t have that. And it’d been her choice.

She was falling apart and she didn’t know how to stop it.

Felicity looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He was close enough that she could see him without her glasses. His eyes were dark in the shadows, shiny with his own tears - _for her_ \- as he waited for her to respond.

He was even more beautiful than she remembered.

He’d come to her, without her even asking. Because he cared.

_“I care about you. And I will always care about you.”_

She wondered if he loved her like she still loved him.

“I saw you earlier,” she whispered. He furrowed his brow, but the words were like a key to the dam inside her. The rest of them spilled out of her. “I saw you… on your date, with… her. And I sort of freaked out, I guess, because I, uh… I know this was my choice, I know I said I’m moving, that I want to see if whatever this… this thing with Billy is, if it’s real. But then…” She sniffled, looking down at her lap because she couldn’t meet his eyes anymore. His hand on her cheek faltered, slipping away, but his hand on her knee didn’t move. She stared at it as she continued. “Then I saw you. With someone else. And I… God, I’m horrible. I’m _horrible._ I wondered if…” She’d wondered so many things, too many things, too many to name. “I wondered if I would ever get to… touch you again.”

“Felicity-”

She closed her eyes, shaking her head, cutting him off.

“I’m so stupid,” she babbled. “I’m an idiot. Because I did this. This was my choice. I said we should move on, and I’m trying. I am moving on. _I am_. But… you were always there, you were always… I told you I wasn’t leaving the door open for us, because I’m… I’m _not_.” She hardened her voice, but it sounded false even to her ears. “I’m not, I swear. I really… I really want to see if this is real with Billy, because it’s…” Her voice cracked with tears. “Because I miss… because so far it’s not, it’s not real, it’s not like… it’s not like what you and I… had. And I need…”

 _You_.

The unspoken word hung in the air between them.

Oliver didn’t move.

He didn’t do anything.

Something told her to stop, to get up and _go_ , but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Felicity looked up at him, her hand covering his where it rested on her knee. His fingers jumped, tightening around her thigh on reflex as her other hand came up to cup his jaw.

He froze, not moving as she pushed her fingers through his stubble. He stared at her, and for a split second, she thought she saw all that love she remembered so well shining through. Shining for _her._

She leaned in, her eyes never leaving his.

Their lips brushed.

His were trembling, and she felt his gasp as he leaned into her, the hard lines of his body pressing into hers. Fire streaked across the surface of her skin, her nerve endings jumping to life. It burned through her, slicing through the haziness and the darkness, cracking her chest wide open, letting _light_ pour in.

God, she needed it, she craved the light so bad. She craved _his_ light, his warmth.

He whispered something she couldn’t understand. His hand slid up her leg, taking hers with it as he shifted closer. The simple move ignited a feeling she hadn’t felt in so long, a bone-deep desire that only he’d ever been able to bring out in her.

She needed him, so badly, and god, she _missed_ him.

Felicity took a shaky breath, afraid to move, but needing to.

“Oliver,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his.

The second they touch, he faltered. And then he turned his face away.

“I… I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Felicity, this isn’t…” He pulled back so her hand fell from his cheek, pulling his hand off her leg. “I can’t do this. This isn’t fair to me. Or to Billy.”

The words cut right through all the bullshit. She opened her mouth to speak, to say something, but there was nothing. He was right, and she knew he was right.

It didn’t make the need disappear. Even Billy’s name on his lips did nothing to dissipate the buzzing want that suddenly made her want to claw her skin off.

God, she was…

_Awful._

“You’re right,” Felicity croaked. “You’re right, I’m… I’m sorry. I’m not…”

Oliver stood abruptly, backing away from her. He rubbed his hands against his thighs, taking a deep, steadying breath as he turned away from her.

She just watched him, feeling a strange blankness inside.

The coldness was back.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity whispered. She rubbed her face and stood up, tugging the afghan around her shoulders. “I’m not… I just had…”

No, she didn’t want to tell him about her nightmares. That wasn’t his burden anymore. It’d barely been his burden when she’d fallen apart before, and she couldn’t ask him to be there for her like that. And it wasn’t an excuse. This wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to Billy. It was fair to her, in that she deserved the consequences of her actions, in that she deserved to lose everything. But she couldn’t do that; she couldn’t push them away, even if it was for their own good. No matter how much she deserved it.

Felicity wrapped her arms around her middle, opening her mouth to say something - to say anything - but nothing came out.

Instead, she stared at his stiff back, at his hands where they rested on his hips, at the way he didn’t seem to be breathing.  


She’d done that.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, the words barely audible as a soft wind brushed over the balcony again.

Felicity stepped around him, moving to go inside. She didn’t deserve their balcony anymore, she didn’t deserve anything but the misery that waited for her inside.

She didn’t make it.

Oliver spun back towards her with a sharp exhale.

Felicity’s eyes widened, that crack in her chest bursting back open as he closed the distance between them in two strides. He grabbed her elbow before she could reach the door and pulled her into his arms. She barely had a second to react - all she managed was a quick gasp as she gave in, following his lead, stepping closer - and then his lips were on hers.

The kiss was _hard_.

It was months of pent up frustration and feelings, months of not talking, months of so much unspoken between them, and the weeks that’d followed the decision to move on from each other.

Felicity moaned, pushing her arms inside his open jacket, wrapping her arms around his waist as she surged up onto her toes to kiss him more. He returned it with everything he had. It was different than any other kiss they’d shared - it was everything they wanted to say, but couldn’t. They kissed each other, giving and taking everything the other had, everything that wasn’t theirs to give anymore.

It lasted until the need for air was too much.

Her lungs burned, but she didn’t want to let him go. She wanted more - his lips were so soft, so demanding, so delicious - but it couldn’t last forever.

A sob surged up from her chest at the realization.

They broke away with ragged gasps, but they didn’t let go.

Oliver curled his body around hers. Felicity wrapped herself around him, sliding one arm up and around his neck, hugging his waist with the other. He clung to her just as hard, burying his face into her neck, breathing her in. He was trembling… or maybe she was. She couldn’t tell, and she didn’t care. As long as he was there, she would be fine.

She’d be _okay_.

They stayed like that, just hugging each other.

Nothing was fixed, nothing _could_ be fixed, and maybe this was just making things even harder, but she didn’t care. Not right then.

Because she loved him, with every fiber of her being, and while she did have to let him go… it helped knowing that he would always be there. That she would always be there for him.

It had to be enough, and in that second, it was.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this came off as messy and uneven, as slightly weird and without any real resolution… _good_! That was my intention, because that’s where I am with Olicity in my head right now. It’s the side of them we’re not getting in canon, much to my ever-lasting frustration, albeit probably not nearly as dramatic. This was cathartic for me, and I didn’t edit much to capture the way it flowed out of my brain. (I’ve been damned blocked when it comes to Blood Hands because canon is fucking me up right now in so many ways, so this was nice.)
> 
> Despite my agonies over the hows and whys, I do think Felicity and Oliver needed to break up to be stronger in the end. I like what they’re doing in canon with them. I can see what the writers are trying to do, and while the methods and modes are far from perfect, I do like it. The thing I didn't agree with was how they broke up - that was a blatantly obvious way to get them apart for the sake of the story they had planned. But whatever. It's done. The consequences of it are quite enjoyable (with fic additions, as usual), and there is great potential, IMO, including characters falling apart because they insist on lying to their damn selves.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> (Okay, so there goes 6200 words that weren’t for Blood Hands. *laughs and cries at NaNoWriMo*)


	3. what a feeling (post-S5, future fic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity reflects on the last few years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in future canon, after Season 5. Because Olicity is endgame.
> 
> (This started with a [tweet](https://twitter.com/smoaked_queen/status/799137245357809664) from @emilybuttrickards about Amell’s hair, and it ended with her sending me [this](https://twitter.com/smoaked_queen/status/799567539034619904) and then [this](https://twitter.com/smoaked_queen/status/799636632500584448) and here we are.)
> 
> Title from [Brighter Than Sunshine by Aqualung](https://open.spotify.com/track/3W6UA36h0zahjxU709wLSI).

The hallway was dark, the only illumination coming from the open windows downstairs and the slice of light from under the closed bedroom door.

Felicity slowed as she reached the bedroom, gently balancing her mug on her tablet. Her eyes didn’t leave it for a second as she reached for the doorknob. Steam spiraled up into the air, the hot coffee sloshing against the sides as she twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible. The liquid got too close to the edge on one slosh and Felicity froze with a silent, “Frak.” Why did she fill it so high? She _knew_ she was going to have to do this. It didn’t go over, though. Sticking her tongue out in concentration, Felicity opened the bedroom door and quickly snatched the mug before any tablet-related catastrophe could hit.

She scooted into the room, keeping her feet light as she hurried to the nightstand, setting the mug and tablet down, careful not to make a sound. Felicity glanced over to see if she’d woken him.

He was still sound asleep.

The sight made her pause. A rush of emotion filled her chest and she bit her lip, smiling.

It’d been a few months since she’d asked him out - really, since she’d blurted it out over the comms one night - but the sight of him back where he belonged never failed to take her breath away.

Sunlight had always come through the windows, warming the space, filling it with light, but it was _him_ who filled their home with _life_. When he’d come over after their second date, the loft suddenly felt like home again. It’d been missing a piece since that brutal morning a few years ago - _she’d_ been missing a piece - but then…

He was here.

The loft was complete again.

 _She_ was complete again.

Oliver slept soundly, his arms wrapped around the pillow, his lips parted with deep, even breaths. He’d shifted since she’d gone downstairs, like he’d felt her absence, but he hadn’t woken. No, he’d just moved closer to her side until he was practically claiming the entire bed. The sun was shining through the open picture window, highlighting him in a warm light that had nothing on the beautiful warmth he kept discovering more of inside himself.

Things were different this time around, and it wasn’t just because of everything that had happened since they’d called it quits before. He’d changed, he’d grown, just like she had, and instead of driving them apart, forcing them to realize that they weren’t that compatible - like she’d feared on those late nights when she was alone in bed, when she cried herself to sleep because the pain in her heart was too much - it brought them closer. It just hadn’t been the right time before. _They_ hadn’t been ready before. But now they were. And it was…

Everything.

With a happy, content sigh, Felicity tugged her shirt off - it was his, one of his white button-ups - and dropped it on the ground. The air was chilly and when it hit her naked skin, she shivered, quickly climbing into the bed.

Felicity took a long sip of her coffee and then grabbed her tablet, settling back into the pillows to get some work done. She was freakishly wide awake, like she always was these days. It was a leftover from the months after Havenrock. (Felicity closed her eyes at the reminder. She could think about it now, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Not yet.) Waking up at a certain time had helped give her a sense of control, it’d given her a boundary to work with, and it’d stuck. One of her favorite things from when she’d been with Oliver before had been their ability to sleep in together until the early afternoon. So while she wasn’t exactly back on that schedule - she might never be - she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to stay in bed with him.

Oliver shifted, moving closer to her. When his leg brushed against hers he let out a soft exhale before settling again.

As her tablet blinked to life, Felicity couldn’t help but look at him one more time.

There were more scars than before, more lines around his eyes and mouth, and the worry line  between his brows she used to smooth away had only deepened. That was changing. All the new lines were slowly - _so, so slowly_ \- starting to ease, but nothing would erase them forever. Nothing would change the things they’d gone through. She didn’t want them to disappear, though. They were signs they’d both been to hell and back. That they’d survived.

That they’d found each other again.

That same rush of emotion filled her to the brim again, making her chest tighten with amazement and awe and _love_.

Felicity set her tablet down and turned onto her side to face him. She snuggled deep under the sheets, pressing herself closer to him, seeking the warmth he so effortlessly gave off. (Her feet were still as cold as ever, something he claimed to not miss. Should she tell him she saw the little smile he tried to hide when she shoved her toes up inside the legs of his sweats?)

He didn’t move, still asleep.

She stared at him for a beat, taking him in before she touched his beard. He was wearing it a little longer these days, something she really, really liked.

It was speckled with gray.

Felicity traced his face, her touch feather-light, careful not to wake him as she took her time memorizing him for the thousandth time. She knew every line, every freckle, every scar, every hair, but that didn’t stop her from drinking him in every chance she got. He was so beautiful, so strong.

Her fingers drifted up to his hair.

Just like his beard, he was letting it get longer.

It was littered with tiny streaks of silver.

The sunlight caught every single one, making them all shine in the dark blonde strands.

Felicity ran her fingers through his hair, watching the light play on the different variations of silver and gray.

She pushed her fingers over his scalp, over and over, her tablet forgotten. The silver was mesmerizing. He wore it so well. He wore it like a badge of honor, because that’s exactly what it was. It wasn’t a sign that he was getting old, or that life had beaten him down. It was a sign of everything he’d faced, of everything he’d accomplished, of everything he’d taken on, never stopping, never faltering, even when life demanded it of him. It was a sign of his passion, his tenacity, his love for the people around him, for his city…

For himself.

That was one of the biggest changes, she realized. When Oliver looked in the mirror, he didn’t grimace or frown anymore. He didn’t see something horrible, or something that needed to be fixed because it wasn’t good enough. He saw himself - not the man who’d failed, but the man who’d succeeded. It was that man who’d pulled her back from the darkness when she’d fallen after Havenrock, it was that man who’d been there when she’d pushed him away so many times for all the wrong reasons, and it was that man who still loved her when she was the one who looked in the mirror and only saw ugliness staring back.

It was that man who wore this sign of the life he’d lived with honor, with grace, with pride. It was someone who’d fought so hard to become that person, who’d fought so, so many people, including himself.

She was in awe of him.

He always said she was the stronger one between them, but that wasn’t true in the least. _He_ was. Or, well, they were at least on the same level. That thought made her smile, because she knew it’d make him smile if she told him that.

Felicity smiled at him and whispered, “I love you,” before pushing herself closer to kiss his forehead.

Oliver sighed in contentment, leaning against her lips.

Without warning he let go of his pillow and curled around her instead. He didn’t wake as he wrapped her up in his arms, moving until his head was pillowed on her breast, his leg wound around one of hers, his half-hard erection pressed against her naked hip.

Felicity grinned, hugging him back, kissing the crown of his head.

Oliver took a deep breath, his chest expanding against her, and when he let it out, his breath danced over her hardening nipple. She hummed, scraping her nails over his scalp, thinking about waking him up in a very pleasant way.

In a minute though, because for now…

For now she just wanted to hold him as he slept. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, watch the sun dance over new color variations in his hair, revel in the life and warmth he embodied…

She didn’t remember falling asleep. She barely remembered closing her eyes, but one second she was holding him as he slept and the next he was the one waking her, his fingers slipping between her legs, his lips pressed against her ear, his voice soft with happiness as he whispered, “I love you.”

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	4. Freckles (post-S5, future fic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous: Please please, something fluffy where Oliver notices the light freckles on Felicity's nose and comments on them. Because she's just such a cute little cupcake!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the future when Oliver and Felicity get back together. Because that's going to happen, damn it.

As Felicity woke, only one word resonated in her head:

 _Content_. 

That’s what she was. 

Pure contentment filled her.

Felicity hummed, stretching under the sheets, pressing closer to him where he lay next to her. The soft smile hadn’t left her lips in days and she was pretty sure it wouldn’t be going anywhere for a long while. She was happy and she hadn’t been this happy in such a long time. She hadn’t smiled like this in even longer and she missed it. So much so that she was planning on smiling forever. Yep. A solid plan, that one.

He was already awake - that hadn’t changed, he always woke up eons before she did - and he wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her against him. He slid his hand under the sheet, his fingers slipping over her spine. It made her shiver, sending goosebumps rising across the surface of her skin. They razed a path down her back and over to her front, goosebumps skating over her breasts. Her nipples hardened, tingling under the assault, and she lifted a leg over his hip.

Eyes still closed, Felicity turned her face up to his, seeking his lips…

“Hold on a second.”

The urgent note in his voice had her eyes popping open.

Felicity frowned up at Oliver where he hovered over her, but he wasn’t looking at her. No, he _was_ looking at her, but he wasn’t meeting her eyes. He was staring at her nose. He tilted his head, his own frown marring his features.

“What?” she asked, trying to pull back to see what he was talking about - as if she could _see_ her own nose right now - but Oliver didn’t let her get very far. He pushed her onto her back and crawled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress as he cupped her head, keeping her from moving again. He stared at her nose, looking a little lost, a little like he’d missed something and it was gutting him… except his hair was also everywhere and he had a hickey on his neck and he looked like he’d spent the entire night having sex.

That combined with the frazzled look was so ridiculously _cute_ \- and so out of place considering what they’d just been doing \- that Felicity laughed a little.

His frown didn’t go anywhere, though.

“Oliver,” she started, her fingers drifting down the side of his face, “what are you-”

“You have a new freckle,” he said, as if that explained it all.

It didn’t.

“What?” Felicity asked, watching him stare at her.

“You have a new freckle…” Oliver untangled one hand from her hair and tapped the left side of her nose. “Right there.”

Felicity blinked. “Okay. Is that… bad?”

“No,” Oliver said, shaking his head. His brow furrowed, his eyes moving as if he was…

“Are you counting my freckles?” Felicity asked. That earned her a tiny smile as he nodded… but he didn’t respond. Because he was _counting her freckles_. Felicity laughed, gripping his beard and tugging on it lightly to get his attention, but it didn’t work. He was too busy _counting_. “Oliver, there’s no way…”

“I was wrong,” Oliver interrupted, settling over her more firmly. The full length of his very naked body settled against her and Felicity’s legs naturally fell open for him. Her breath hitched when she felt his hardness pressing against her sex, a gentle flush rushing up her chest to her face. He slid over the sensitive flesh and she felt him growing harder, his hips moving against hers, but that was the only indication he felt anything. He kept staring at her nose… and then he tapped the same spot again before tapping another one a little higher. “You have two new freckles.”

Felicity shook her head. “Are you telling me you memorized my freckles?”

“I memorized everything about you,” he replied, dipping down to kiss the tip of her nose. Love warmed her chest at that, to the point of bursting, and her smile grew. He kissed her nose again, and again, before dropping soft kisses all over her nose and then down her cheek. His stubble was a little rough but it tickled at the same time and she giggled, scrunching her nose under the assault. “I love your freckles,” he whispered, his lips moving against her cheek. “You can’t see them when you wear makeup, because they’re so light…” He pulled back, gazing down at her. “I can only really see them in the morning, when the sun’s just rising.”

“Like right now,” she said, the words so quiet that she barely heard them. But he caught them, and he smoothed his hand over her forehead and through her hair as he stared at her. The love in his eyes was so evident that it took her breath away.

He nodded, smiling softly. “Like right now.”

She couldn’t escape the feeling that he was talking about more than her freckles, than the simple act of the sun rising, shining through the large picture window next to their bed.

He was talking about _them_ , too.

Felicity cupped his face, caressing his cheeks and the new lines around his eyes - she, too, had memorized everything about him, as well as all the new little things that they both were constantly discovering every single day. Her gentle stokes had him smiling, his lips parting in a soft exhale as he leaned in closer to her. She lifted her legs higher, letting his hips settle more firmly against hers. Just as he pressed his forehead to hers, his hardness slid through her wetness, and this time they both gasped.

With practiced ease, Oliver pulled his hips back and slid into her, filling her to the hilt as she wrapped herself around him, so tight that there was nothing left but them as they made love in the early morning sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/153744455974/please-please-something-fluffy-where-oliver)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!


	5. Last Moment (5x20 spec fic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5x20 spec fic. The morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt - hi, love your 3x20 meltdown! :) oh and how about their lips never parted with that flip!! but I just stared at the gifs of Felicity walking away in Nanda parbat and him looking destroyed af... so a prompt idea, in the lines of something like them now getting back together and Oliver saying to F. that he watched her walk away two times and he couldnt survive a third... well something like that, I'm sure you'd make it more interesting than me here :)
> 
> For the sake of this ficlet, let’s pretend there is going to be a parallel between 3x20 and 5x20 (*crosses fingers*) and instead of Nanda Parbat, it’s Russia. This includes Oliver/Susan of Season 5 paralleling Felicity/Ray of Season 3 (they break up). 
> 
> This is the morning after. (Slight Angst Warning and Explicit Content.)
> 
> (Please see the end for my additional Olicity thoughts in Season 5 re: this ficlet.)

Oliver watched her.

Her movements were mechanical… no, they were methodical, each move planned with a deliberateness that he recognized all too well. There was nothing playful or bashful, nothing that spoke to what had just happened. Not that he expected it. Some part of him had known this was coming when he knocked on her door last night, when he saw the tiny crack in her facade, when he touched her cheek and she leaned into him, sighing with a heaviness he felt in his soul. He did the same thing when facing a moment that might be his last \- compartmentalize, just to get through the next minute, and the next, and the next.

She had to, for what she was walking into.

Acid burned in his chest, but he forced himself to stay quiet, wanting to just watch her for a little bit longer. He didn’t say anything as she pulled her pants on, buttoning them. Her bra was next, followed by her shirt and then her jacket.

She was leaving, like he knew would happen. And he knew he had to let her, but _god_ , he didn’t want to.

A rush of fear had his chest tightening, his lungs closing up, suffocating him as all the hundreds of ways today could go so very wrong ran through his head.

For a split second he was no longer lying in bed, the cheap silk sheet the only thing covering his naked skin, his head pillowed on his arm in the cold, bare underground room as he watched the love of his life get dressed as if she were putting on armor and not just simple cloth. No, he was suddenly in a bright room filled with windows - the very same one he’d almost died in all those years ago - except it wasn’t his blood all over the floor.

It was hers.

Nausea ripped him from the inside out.

Oliver closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, making tight fists to stop his hands from shaking.

A rustle of her clothes had them snapping back open, finding her instantly. Her face was tight, eyes drawn as she mentally prepared herself for what was to come. Not for the first time he wanted to grab her and never let go… or, at the very least, take her place, to spare her from this.

But he didn’t, and he wouldn’t. Because this was her choice, a choice she’d explicitly told him she was making. _“I did this, I have to clean it up.”_ So while he definitely wanted to rip the room to pieces at the thought of what she was about to face - he already had, actually, back at the bunker in Star City - he took some solace, as slight and bitter as it was, that they had reached a point in their relationship where they were finally on the same page, after _months_ of being off. Where they talked plainly and honestly and laid it all out _._ He wouldn’t ask her to change her mind or to let him take this bullet for her, metaphorical as it was, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much it felt he was forcing himself to just watch her step in front of a firing squad.

He had to trust her, he had to trust that this was going to work.

_God, please… please let this work._

Oliver took a stilted breath, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

He watched her tug on her socks and boots.

The sight settled him and the pressure slowly eased off.

She always made things easier, even when the world around them was crumbling to ash. Her presence alone soothed him, let him breathe. And her smile, god… her laugh, her sparkling eyes, the brush of her fingers against his, the secret curve of her lips when she hugged him close…

What if he never got to see any of that again?

The thought was a mallet to the chest, shattering his heart to pieces, but he didn’t get the chance to feel it.

Felicity suddenly stood up, squaring her shoulders before stepping around the bed…

Towards the door.

Away from him.

Oliver sat up, the sheet pooling in his lap, and grabbed her hand with a rough, “Felicity, wait.”

He would never forget the way her face softened when she looked back at him, the hard lines she’d developed over the last months disappearing. They were lines carved from stress and pain and fear and anger, but it all melted away at his touch. God, he missed that. He missed being able to give that to her.

Oliver scooted to the edge of the bed, pulling her between his legs and for a moment, he just looked up at her, drinking her in. She was beautiful. Her skin was bare, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes that even her glasses couldn’t hide. They’d slept for a few hours last night, more than they’d had the chance to get in the last few days, but the exhaustion still showed in the lines around her eyes and mouth. It only added to her beauty. She was so fiercely strong, never giving up, even when she had every right to, even after everything that’d happened after Prometheus appeared in their lives, after she’d opened that thumb drive.

She was remarkable.

Oliver wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her as she cupped his face gently. He ran a hand up her back, the other slipping down over her backside; it wasn’t sexual or claiming - it was comfort. Support. _Love._ All the hesitation that’d plagued them for months was gone and Oliver reveled in it, leaning into her touch. She was so warm, fitting perfectly against him, and even in this cold, foreign place, she still smelled like home.

Her fingers brushed over his brow, tracing down his cheek, following the lines of his face.

“What is it?” she whispered.

A thousand things sat on the tip of his tongue - _don’t go, stay, let me do this, it’s not worth it, please_ \- but he didn’t say any of it. He wanted to say every single one of them - he could already feel the cold brick floor on his knees when he sank down to his knees to beg her to stay - but she was going, and he knew nothing he said could change that. How many times had she said those very same things to him, and how many times had he ignored it? She hadn’t wasted a second in reminding him of that last night. He could still hear her anger echoing off the walls.

So instead…

“I love you,” Oliver said.

Felicity smiled, warmth filling her eyes. She curled around him, wrapping him up in her embrace, pressing her forehead to his. “I love you.”

He knew it was at this point he was supposed to let her go, so she could go do what she’d promised she would. But he didn’t - he _couldn’t_ \- and she didn’t make him, because she knew exactly what he was feeling. Oliver had an _idea_ of the helpless feeling he must have inspired in her, but he’d always told himself it was worth it. Now, though, being on the receiving end - having to be the one to watch her walk into the mouth of hell, powerless to stop her or help or do anything - he realized how fucking stupid that was.

Oliver pressed himself closer, not wanting to let her go, but knowing he had to.

Felicity leaned into him, reciprocating completely, letting him hold her weight. She pushed her hands into his hair - slowly, taking her time, like she was memorizing the sensation…

Like she wasn’t sure she’d get the chance to do it ever again.

_Please, god, no._

The thought cut through him with a serrated blade, and he let out a tremulous breath, holding her tighter. He had to force himself to focus on just _feeling_ her as she was right now, here with him in his arms.

She had more practice in relishing these small moments, he realized; he had, in the past, in his own way, but this felt harsher somehow. _Harder_. He touched every inch of her that she could reach as her fingers grazed his ears before dropping down to his neck, to his shoulders. She felt his scars - the old and the new - before she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

It wasn’t too long ago that Oliver would have kept his deepest feelings to himself, the wishes and hopes that he would never dare dream of voicing because he couldn’t stand the thought of being a burden on anyone, he couldn’t stand placing that much weight on someone else’s shoulders… but this was Felicity, his Felicity, and after everything that had happened, everything they’d been through, that reservation was gone. Because he _needed_ her to trust him that way, he needed her to let him help her as much as she was willing, and he knew she needed that very same thing from him, the very same thing he hadn’t given her before.

No more.

“I wanted to do this the right way,” he whispered. He didn’t have to open his eyes to see her smile; he felt it, somehow knowing what he was talking about.

“I don’t think there is a right way with us,” she replied, a hint of dry amusement lining her words.

Oliver huffed out a chuckle. “I’m learning that.”

“There’s just… our way.” Felicity’s fingers stroked his back, one hand following his spine down, and then back up. Her fingers were soft and tender and _loving_. It took his breath away. With a soft chuckle, she added, “Which seems to include a lot of sex in foreign countries.”

Oliver laughed, a real one, and it earned a bigger smile from her.

The lightness didn’t last, though, the weight of what was waiting for her outside their door seeping back in.

“I thought about how things would go if we ever happened again,” Oliver continued, his voice quiet. He sighed, the sound coming out in a shaky tremble before he went on. “A hundred different ways. More than that, actually, of how we would… how I would do things differently. An actual date, taking you somewhere or trying something new or… or maybe cooking you dinner, staying in like we used to…”

She was silent, but he was close enough to catch her heart rate picking up.

“I was scared,” Oliver admitted, “to try again. What if you said no, or what if I ruined everything, or… there’s so much that could go wrong, because I’d messed up in so many ways. But…” He pulled back to look up at her. “If there is one thing that my life has taught me, Felicity, it’s that running away is stupid.”

That caught her off guard. Felicity laughed, but the sound quickly turned into a sob, her own words from last night filling the air between them. He wasn’t the only who’d messed up. She nodded, her eyes filling with tears, tears for their past and the tumultuous present, everything they’d gone through to get to this moment…

As well as a future they didn’t know if they had.

“It’s stupid,” he repeated. “Especially running from the things that matter.” Oliver stared at her, willing her to feel what he was saying. “I’m done running, Felicity. There isn’t a right moment or opportunity for anything, and waiting for it has only ever lost me you, every single time, and I can’t… I can’t do that again.” He took an unsteady breath, the impact of his own words hitting him. He ran his hands over her back and shoulders and arms, needing to touch her as he whispered, “I can’t lose you again.”

Her back stiffened at that, her eyes slipping shut. “Oliver…” Her voice cracked as she shook her head. “Don’t.”

“Felicity,” he breathed. “Look at me.” He cupped her cheek. It was wet with a single tear and he pulled her close to kiss the spot before kissing her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and the second they met his, he said, “I’ve had to watch you walk away from me two times already. I won’t survive a third time.”

“Oliver…” She shook her head again, another tear falling as the same fears she’d shared with him last night bubbled to the surface. Her voice shook as she whispered, “I can’t risk you, Oliver, not after… I can’t lose you.” She gripped him tight, her nails digging into him. “They said-”

“I know what they said,” Oliver interrupted.

But she wasn’t done, her voice growing hard. “And you said last night-”

“I know, and I’m not doing that, Felicity. I’m just…” He wanted to grab her and make her _understand…_ but she already did. That was the goddamn problem. All he had left was… “I’m _asking_ ,” he said, his voice raw.

“Oliver, I…”

Cold, naked fear skated over her features, her walls slipping just enough for him to see how terrified she was.

He wanted so badly to take it away from her.

“Felicity.” His held her as tight as he dared, his voice cracking. “I’m just asking to let me… to let me be there for you.” She snorted. “I know I can’t do this for you, even if you were halfway willing to let me. I know that. But I can at least be there.” Oliver brushed her hair away from her face, his voice growing heavy. “I haven’t always been there for you in the past, Felicity, not like you needed me to be. And I know this doesn’t make up for it, and I know that I’m probably being selfish because I can’t just… I can’t let you go, I can’t do it. Just… Please.”

“I can’t,” Felicity whispered. “I could never stop you before, but this time I can and I will, because the thought of losing you… It almost killed me when Billy died because of me-”

“That wasn’t your fault-”

“No, it was,” she interrupted, the words coming out in a feverish mess, her voice dissolving as another tear fell, followed by another. “It _was_. He wouldn’t have been involved in any of this if it wasn’t for me… and if I did that to you…” She ran her hands over his face and neck roughly, her hands shaking with the force of her words. “I can’t let anything happen to you because of me. I can’t do that again, Oliver, I can’t lose someone I care about. I can’t lose _you_. I won’t. I wouldn’t survive that, Oliver, I wouldn’t-”

“Okay,” Oliver whispered, interrupting her with a nod. “Okay.” He hugged her, practically pulling her into his lap. She was trembling and _god_ , it only made him want to shoulder this and everything in the world for her, but he couldn’t and he _hated_ it. He held her tighter. “Okay, okay, I won’t.”

Felicity hugged him, digging her face into his hair, a frightened sob slipping past her lips.

The sound betrayed everything she’d been carefully stowing away just a moment ago and guilt and anger clashed together in his chest - guilt that he was reopening it for her and anger that she had to do it all.

Oliver whispered nonsensical words, anything and everything that came to mind, but her shaking only increased. She clung to him, letting him see how scared she was, and he wanted to spare her so badly it made his entire being ache.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you, Felicity.”

He said it over and over, using his hands - his entire body \- to imprint it on her skin, on her heart, her soul, because while he couldn’t be there physically, he’d be there in every other way possible. No matter what. _Always._

She felt it.

Felicity gasped, pulling back just enough to find his lips.

The kiss was searing, burning away the pain and fear as much as it fueled it. It was everything this moment meant to them, everything they meant to each other, everything they were constantly giving up. Somehow they always wound up in this spot, everything at the tip of their fingers at the very wrong time.

No more.

If they survived this - _when_ they survived this - there was no more holding back. He was done letting opportunities slip away, done running, done letting his fears of the unknown keep him in the safety of shadows.

It was time to face the darkness.

Starting now.

Oliver kissed her harder, tasting her love and the salt from her tears as he poured everything he had into it. She moaned under the onslaught but she didn’t back down in the least. She didn’t stop him, didn’t turn him away, like some secret part of him had always feared. No, she embraced it, taking everything he was without hesitation.

And then she gave him the most beautiful gift she possibly could, the same one she’d given him last night:

She let go.

Felicity opened herself to him, let him in, let him see and feel and hear all of it. Her hopes, her fears, her regrets, her love, her pain… all of it. It was a tangible switch in the face of the unknown and it raked across the foundations of his heart and soul just as much as it healed the missing pieces between them.

There was so much to do, so much to say, so much to explore and learn, so much they couldn’t do now, but the door was open, the door that’d always been partially shut, always kept some parts of themselves away from the other.

No more.

They moved at the same time.

Oliver pushed her jacket off shoulders as she yanked her shirt up to reach her pants. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons, her hands slipping on them in her haste as he pulled her jacket down her arms. She barely got them undone in time for Oliver to shove his fingers in the band of her pants to pull them down as she ripped her jacket off.

There wasn’t time for the reverence of last night, and they both knew it. But even if there had been, they wouldn’t have heeded it. Not this time. A core-deep need ran an electric current between them as they kissed, as Felicity leaned down just through to pull her boots off before helping him peel her pants off her legs. Her panties got caught on her foot but they slipped to the floor when she lifted her leg to climb on top of him.

Oliver met her halfway, grasping her hips and lifting her up. She moaned, her hands falling to his shoulders for leverage; the slight vibration against his lips was addicting and he gripped her tighter, wanting more. She gave it, especially when her knees landed on either side of him and he yanked her into his lap, pulling her flush against him.

He was sensitive from last night and she was, too. She keened, her nails digging into his shoulders, but it didn’t last long. With a shudder, she rolled her hips against his, pressing her hot core right against his growing hardness. He choked out an unintelligible noise, the sensation sending scorching desire racing through him, making his cock swell, pushing up against the thin sheet separating them. Felicity felt it and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders for leverage and pressed herself closer, thrusting down harder against him, making him gasp.

But it wasn’t enough. He needed more, needed her closer, needed to seal what they had, what had changed last night.

With a grunt, Oliver pulled Felicity flush against him and picked her up, twisting to lay her down on the bed. She held onto him, their lips never parting as the sheet fell away, leaving nothing but them.

He blanketed her body with his, pushing her shirt up to feel more of her skin as her hands ran over his back. His hardness slid through her wet heat, making them both moan, and then he brushed her tender little pearl. A shiver wracked her body and Felicity broke away from him with a gasp for air. The burn for oxygen in his own lungs wasn’t enough to dominate his need to kiss her, though. His lips found hers again in short, chaste kisses that were just as heady as the last one. He needed to connect with her in every way possible, every way they hadn’t been before last night, and so did she. Even as she panted, gasping from the sensation and the need to breathe, she met him each and every single time.

He pulled his hips back in a well-practiced move, the head of his cock slipping through her wetness to find her entrance. Felicity spread her legs, angling her hips to meet him at just the right spot… Oliver thrust home, hard and deep, filling her. Her inner walls clamped down around him, pulling him in deeper, as deep as he could go…

It was _everything_ , more than enough, and they both stopped to savor it.

The world around them slowed, leaving them in a bubble of their own making, a bubble where nothing could touch them. Felicity pushed her hands into his hair, pulling his forehead against hers as she pulled her legs up, wrapping them around him, cradling him between her thighs, urging him to go even deeper inside her. His lips brushed against hers and it slowly turned into a lingering kiss as they wrapped around each other as tightly as possible, Oliver pushing his arms underneath her, pulling her into his arms.

Neither of them wanted to move… but all too soon the need became too much.

Oliver pulled out softly, so gently, and thrust back into her. It was slow, the earlier insistence giving way to their love. It blossomed out between them, encompassing them. It was beautiful, tender… _perfect._

Tears burned his eyes.

Oliver needed to love her, to make her _feel_ how much he loved her… as well as how _angry_ he was that she had to face what waited for her alone, that he couldn’t do it for her. But he also felt the strangest satisfaction in knowing she could handle whatever they threw at her, and it both dulled and enhanced every single emotion in his body, making everything more vivid.

It was the strangest combination and instead of lulling him deeper into the moment, it reignited the urgent fire from a moment ago.

Oliver gasped before freezing, clenching his jaw, not wanting to lose this precious moment, but she heard it anyway. She _felt_ it, and she responded to it like a moth to a flame.

“Yes,” Felicity gasped, nodding, grasping his hair in tight fists, her voice echoing the very same thing he felt. “ _Yes_.”

The urgency between them suddenly roared back to life and he gave her a desperate, “ _Felicity_ ,” before their lips crashed together in a violent mixture of love and anger - anger that this might be it, anger that they had waited so long, anger that they hadn’t taken more time when they could. The kiss turned bruising as Oliver pulled out and thrust into her _hard_. She pulled her knees even higher as he dug his fingers into her back, leaving bright red marks in her pale skin.

He swallowed her cries as they grew louder, and she drank every single one of his. Their thrusts became harder, faster, more frenzied, reaffirming their love as much as they were demanding the world recognize how _alive_ they were in this moment. They needed it to know what they were risking, what was at stake, how important it was, and how much they _needed_ to survive this so they could find each other again.

They’d lost so much already, it was time for them to grab what was theirs and never let go.

And that was exactly what they did.

Before long, the familiar burn of his pleasure started at the base of his spine, spiraling out, flooding his veins with hot acid. It was intoxicating, taking over every sense as he thrust into her, his cries growing louder… but it was too fast.

He needed her to join him, as much as he needed her touch, her kisses, her light.

Oliver pushed his hands down underneath her to cup her ass. He gripped her tight, pushing her up closer to him, angling her so he could hit her clit. The instant his pelvic bone brushed against it, she let out a sharp cry, her nails scraping against his scalp. He did it again, burying himself deep inside her, his stubbled cheek scraping against hers as he moved to press his face into the hollow of her throat. He panted against her, her cries filling his ear as they climbed that beautiful precipice together. The frenzy between them somehow had their pleasure melding together, making it more intense, making his skin tingle as he got closer and closer…

Felicity shuddered, arching her back, and all it took was one more thrust for her to fall to pieces. With a startled cry, she came, her silken walls gripping him so tight that it sent him spiraling out of control. Oliver held her with bruising force, thrusting into her wildly, chasing so much more than his own pleasure; it was _her_ , his love for her, about cementing that and everything they were.

He was so close…

Felicity gripped the back of his neck, her fingers brushing through his damp hair as her lips found his ear. She whispered his name, a breathy gasp laced with a declaration of love, and it gave him the final push he needed to fall over the edge.

Oliver came with a ragged shout, the sound muffled against her skin as white sheeted over his eyes. Felicity held him close as he shuddered, spilling into her; her body cradled his, her whispers of love filling him.

It was a long moment before he finally pulled his hands out from under her. He wanted to hold her like she was holding him, cradle her close, but the instant he moved, she gripped him tighter, whispering, “Don’t let go, don’t let go.”

“Never,” he breathed, shaking his head. “ _Never_.” Oliver wrapped himself around her and rolled them over, pulling her with him. She burrowed into his chest as he slid his hand down her spine to keep her pressed tightly to him, not wanting to leave her warmth just yet. He cuddled her close, pressing his face to the top of her head. “I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered into her hair. “Ever.”

She nodded, a little too frantically, running her hands over his chest and shoulders before she lifted her head to kiss him. It was bittersweet, tinged with sadness, and it wasn’t nearly long enough. When she finally pulled back, licking her lips like she wanted to remember the way he tasted, he could tell from the pinched set of her eyes that she knew it, too.

“Just another minute,” Oliver pleaded before kissing her again.

The minute flew by.

_Too fast, too fast._

“I have to go,” Felicity said against his lips. She was trembling, but her voice was strong, steady. Pride clashed with fear in his chest and he had to fight himself from holding onto her and never letting go. She kissed him softly. “But first…” She pulled back to look at him, lifting her hand to caress his brow. “Thank you.”

Oliver blinked. “For what?”

“For asking,” she replied simply, as if it were really that simple. In some ways it was, he supposed, but it in others… He stared at her for a beat, drinking her in. A shadow of a smile touched her lips. “And for not tricking me into drinking poison and trying to sneak me out of Russia before anyone found out.”

He huffed out a sardonic chuckle, shaking his head. He lifted his legs and wound his arms around her, bracketing her in his embrace. “You have no idea how much I wanted to. How much I still want to.” She bit her lip, raising an eyebrow at him. He sighed and cupped her face. He dragged his thumb down her cheek, pausing at the corner of her mouth. “I guess you do.”

“I do.” She smiled sadly. “Which makes that you didn’t all the more meaningful. In a really weird, backwards way, but… you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

Felicity kissed the calloused pad of his thumb, her lips moving against it as she said she loved him.

He mouthed it back to her.

With one last kiss, they got up. They got dressed, not taking their eyes off each other, touching each other every chance they got. It, just like everything else, went by way too fast until all that was left was walking out the door.

They kissed one more time, hugged each other as tightly as they could… and then she turned to go.

Oliver couldn’t help himself, letting himself have one last moment. When Felicity’s hand gripped the doorknob, he grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his as he pressed his lips to her ear. 

“Come back to me,” he whispered. 

Felicity turned to look back at him. “Always.”

This time when she left, he didn’t stop her.

Oliver caught the door before it shut behind her, stepping out into the hallway just enough to watch her walk away. It took all of his willpower to keep himself still, his hands clenched in tight fists, his nails cutting into his palms, but he didn’t move.

Because this time _was_ different.

He was going to see her again, because they weren’t done, not by a long shot.

This wasn’t their last moment.

He would see her again.

(And he did. Two days later she came back to him, looking like she’d been to hell an back, but she was _alive_. Together (and with Team Arrow) they defeated Prometheus and lived happily ever after as a badass power couple by day and a badass vigilante couple by night. They had their ups and downs, but they never gave up on each other, never lied or hid anything. There were no more fears of pushing too hard or toeing any lines. They were there for each other - and as a result, everyone they loved around them - through thick and thin, when their work challenged them and when the world seemed to be only holding on by a thread. They never gave up because they loved each other and they’d had enough needless drama to last a lifetime. They only had time for drama they worked through together, like old tendencies towards self-sacrifice and leaving burnt sauce on the stove after attempts at cooking. And, at the end of the story, they totally got married and had kids and we got to see all of it as faithful viewers of _Arrow_. Because we’re good people.)

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… that happened. Did you enjoy it? It wasn’t my intention to get this emotional, but I wanted them _raw_ and I apparently have a lot of Olicity feelings bottled up because of this season.
> 
> Allow me to explain said bottled-up feelings just a bit:
> 
> In this ficlet, hacktivist!Felicity has done something bad in her pursuit of Prometheus (she literally opened Pandora in 5x11 and _duh, of course that’s bad_ ), and she needs to pay her dues, dues only she can pay. (In my mind, this directly involved the Bratva, because I want it to.) Her being the one to go face the music is important in that it is an end result of her dark arc and an end result of Oliver’s light arc - he is there for her and accepting her all through her darkness, as she did for him, but he’s also not standing in her way, not trying to take the bullet for her. He’s recognizing her choice and he’s accepting it, as much as he hates it. Oliver of yesteryear would have pulled a Felicity and tried to take her place, but I didn’t want that in this ficlet. I wanted him to see Felicity, see her choice and respect it. And thus, this choice - this thing Felicity has to face and Oliver being there to support her every step of the way - brings them back together aka it makes them strong enough to defeat Prometheus and live HEA with lots of vigilante-ing and fluffy love.
> 
> (Super simplified and watered down - yay fanfiction!)
> 
> Basically, I wanted to capture a potential 3x20/5x20 parallel, so I didn’t touch on hardly any plot progression to get to this point - including Oliver breaking up with Susan - and instead focused on Olicity (obvs). This is about Olicity. This moment is a first step towards them becoming their ultimate selves with each other: being completely open, about all the good, all the bad, all the ugly; being raw and real, letting each other see everything they are without reservation, and letting that be as integral to their relationship as their love for each other. It’s this very thing that will make them last, make them work, what they were missing from their first go-around (based on what we’ve seen so far this year - on that note, _gimme all their married couple fights_ ).
> 
> Or, you know… something like that.
> 
> As a side note, thank the gods for fanfiction because Season 5 is testing me.
> 
> On another side note, I listened to Wild Horses by The Sundays a lot while going back through this.
> 
> Here, have some feels:
> 
> I watched you suffer a dull aching pain,  
> Now you’ve decided to show me the same  
> No sweeping exits or offstage lines  
> Can make me feel bitter or treat you unkind
> 
> Wild horses couldn’t drag me away,  
> Wild, wild horses, couldn’t drag me away
> 
> I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie,  
> I have my freedom but I don’t have much time  
> Faith has been broken, tears must be cried,  
> Let’s do some living after we die
> 
> Wild horses couldn’t drag me away,  
> Wild, wild horses, we’ll ride them someday 
> 
> On another, another side note, this is unbeta’d, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> *
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/156740696494/hi-love-your-3x20-meltdown-oh-and-how-about)


	6. Muscle Memory (5x15)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scene from the hospital in 5x15.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was talking to the effervescent Effie about her tag fics and ones she could do for 5x15 and she was drowning me in feels and then this popped into my head. And then I got an anon prompt: "Any chance you are writing a post 5.15 ficlet?" And here we are.
> 
> Warning! This does contain Susan thoughts from Oliver's POV.

The phone rang.

Every single ring felt endless, too loud and harsh, before cutting off abruptly, disappearing into a black hole of silence, only to start all over again.

When Susan’s voicemail clicked on, he closed his eyes and cut the call off, his chest tightening.

Despite himself, he’d hoped - _wished_ \- that she’d pick up, that the first words out of her mouth would be, _“Are you okay?”_ or even a quiet, _“Hey,”_ in her husky voice. He didn’t expect her to happy with him, to magically forget what had happened, but at least she’d be answering, because she knew he was in the hospital.

Because she’d know he needed someone.

He scrolled through his phone, going through the several unanswered calls he’d sent her way, all the text messages that went without response. She was upset and she had every right to be, but he wished she could see that he was _trying_. He was doing everything in his power to make this right, but no matter what he did, no matter what he tried, it wasn’t good enough.

It would be, though, if he could get things back to the way they had been before.

Until then…

She didn’t call him. She didn’t text.

All he had was silence.

Oliver palmed the phone, turning to face the television. He had no desire to hear what was being said about what had happened. But he also couldn’t leave, not if he wanted to do things the right way, the proper way, the way the Mayor of Starling City should do things. As stupid as it was, it felt like his entire political career hinged on him following doctor’s orders right now.

He slowly made his way to the window. It was dark out, but the city was still very alive, lights of varying color and size filling the landscape. His blurry reflection was the only evidence that anyone was in the room; it was disjointed and off, though, only pieces glimpsing through the half-opened blinds.

The minutes slowly ticked by… and for a split second, he let his mind wander.

He let himself hear the click of heels in the hallway. He thought about the way they’d abruptly stop at the doorway, the soft brush of her hand on the doorjamb as she paused, taking a second to drink him in, to see that he was okay, to know that all the horrible things she’d been imagining the entire time weren’t real, hadn’t happened. He’d turn, meeting her eyes, a small smile on his face as he started towards her. She’d meet him halfway, a thousand things already falling from her beautiful lips - chastisements, mostly - until they reached each other, until she wrapped him up in her arms, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He’d do the same, knowing they played with life and death every single day, but that no matter what was happening, just having her in his arms made everything better. He’d hold her tight, sliding one hand up to the back of her neck, her name slipping past his lips…

_“Felicity…”_

Oliver started, inhaling sharply, his eyes refocusing on the cityscape.

It wasn’t Susan he saw.

It was Felicity.

“Damn it,” he whispered, closing his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing until the pain was too much. He shoved it down, not even bothering to examine where his brain had just gone.

It was just reflexive.

A muscle memory.

That’s all.

Oliver swallowed past the lump in his throat, forcing himself to take a breath, and then another one. He turned back to the room, making his way to the bed, ready to turn on the TV after all…

But when he sat down on the edge of the thin mattress, he didn’t grab the remote.

No, he thought about the past. He thought about how things might’ve been. He thought about what could’ve happened. He thought about what did happen.

Oliver thumbed his phone on, flipping through the screens until he found her name.

 _‘FELICITY’_ stared up at him.

He knew if he called her, she’d come. If he asked her, she’d be there. She always had been, since the first day they met, and she always would be… like he would be for her, if she asked. A sudden burning deep in his chest had him clenching his jaw, a reminder of how much he wished she would just ask, give him another chance, let him show her he would be there for her. God, there was so much he would do for her if she asked him to… but she didn’t. She didn’t ask him anything.

Because they weren’t like that anymore.

That didn’t stop him from staring at her name until his screen went dark, or from closing his eyes and letting himself indulge in the sight of her coming to the doorway, a flurry of beauty and color, her blue eyes finding his before she laid into him about the bad juju that was his riding in limos…

He let himself have it, for one minute.

And then he sat up and pushed it all down. He put it back in its neat little box, stowed it away, and turned the TV on, forcing himself back to reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!
> 
> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/157919747264/any-chance-you-are-writing-a-post-515-ficlet)


	7. Torches (5x20 spec drabble)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What I would love to see in the S4.5 flashbacks in 5x20 (with a bit of my delusional wishes at the end, as usual).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The effervescent Tracy (scu11y22) shared the amazing new X Ambassadors song [Torches](https://open.spotify.com/track/1p9mCPuPV9FGa0jnJYk0IA) this morning and it consumed me whole because _it is so Olicity that it physically pains me_
> 
> This song _is_ 5x20, and while it fits the present more, it had my mind reeling as I listened to it on repeat while writing a quick spec drabble for the flashbacks…

  
[Source](http://queensarrow.tumblr.com/post/159793505524)

_… warmth, softness, her skin smooth under his rough palm where he pushed it underneath her silky shirt and up her spine, making her shiver when his fingers skated over spinal implant; the delicate ends of her hair tickled his fingers when he reached the back of her neck, just like their first time together in Nanda Parbat; and just like then, her hips rocked into his, except now there weren’t any barriers, nothing between them but bated breath; they both waited, taking a moment to pause, to revel; her breath was uneven against his cheek, her lips trembling, her heart hammering against his chest, matching his where it pounded for her; he held her close, cupping her neck, his other hand slipping down to her hip; he wanted to tug her closer into his lap; he didn’t care about the hard step he sat on or the cool air of the foundry around them; he only felt her, only cared about her where she hovered in his lap, straddling him, her delicious heat so close, so so close… she was everything he wanted, everything he craved, from the press of her body to his to her beautiful smile that still took his breath away; she pressed her face to his, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, his neck; she angled her hips, finding the tip of his hardness in a well-practiced move; he whined, holding his breath, waiting… and then she sunk down, without warning, without pause, taking his entire length in one thrust that had him letting out a strangled groan, followed by her moaning his name in such a way… his body hardened even more, his hardness swelling inside her with more want, more need; he needed more, he needed to feel more of her, right now… she felt the same urge; her nails scrabbled across the back of his shoulders and down, yanking his shirt up; he reciprocated by pulling her shirt off, unhooking her bra in the same movement, not caring when he heard something tear or when his Henley ripped at his sensitized skin, because then there was only…_

_Bliss._

They fused themselves together, her hard nipples pressing into his chest. Oliver shuddered, whispering her name, over and over. Their hips rocked until they found the perfect rhythm, until they found that primordial beat that pounded inside both of them, that surrounded them, pulling them under until there was nothing but _them_ , nothing left but this moment.

Oliver was starved for her - his hands ran up and down her back, earning a beautiful gasp each and every time he touched the sensitive band around her middle that he knew like the back of his hand. He could still taste her arousal on his lips, his tongue, could still feel the softness of her tender flesh against his mouth from when he’d pushed her up against the salmon ladder a moment ago, from when he’d pulled her pants down and buried his face between her luscious thighs. He groaned at the memory of tasting her again, of discovering all the new ways she responded, the new sensations that her chip gave her, so different from before but still somehow the same.

Felicity hissed, arching her back, and angled her hips so he could go deeper. Her wet heat enveloped him, pulling him in, and he went willingly, went as deep as he could.

Oliver dipped his head down, capturing a nipple between his lips. She cried out, the sound echoing in the bunker. Her hands dove into his hair, making tight fists, holding him there where he swirled his tongue around it, nipping at the hard bead, making her silken walls clench around him.

She was just as sensitive as before, if not more.

_Yes, yes, yes._

Felicity pulled at his hair, yanking his face up to hers. Their lips crashed together, instantly moving together in a well-remembered dance as they…

_As they made love._

Oliver’s heart soared.

The need for oxygen began to burn and they broke away, gasping for air. The sounds mixed with their moans, their cries of pleasure and passion, of unspoken love. They wrapped themselves around each other, so tight it hurt, nails and fingers digging in, leaving bruises. Their hips worked together, pushing each other higher, higher…

His fingers brushed over the center of her back, pure instinct, just like he remembered from their nights exploring her new sensations after the accident, and she reacted the same. A sharp, shocked cry fell from her lips, her head flying back, her back arching to simultaneously get away from the intensity as much as to get closer to it, to him. He did it again, and again, his lips closing around her nipple again before the need to kiss her became too much.

Oliver cupped the back of her head, pulling her face back to his. The kiss was so powerful tears burned his eyes, so soul-searing he felt frozen in time, in space, like it was confirming everything that they’d had, but also acknowledging everything they’d been through, everywhere they’d gone together…

Everywhere they _would_ go.

_God, yes, yes, I love you, I love you._

It wasn’t long before Oliver felt the fine tremble beginning along the edges of her body, felt her heart rate picking up, her skin growing slick with sweat; her breaths changed, growing frantic, her cries becoming more desperate as her hips rocked into his. Their lips parted, but they only held each other harder, breathing each other’s air, pushing each other closer and closer to heaven.

Felicity wrapped herself around him, digging her nails in, making him bleed. She gasped his name, over and over, and he met her every single thrust, every single time, whispering her name, whispering encouragement…

She came, hard, her orgasm rushing through her with a strangled shout, her inner walls clamping down on him. Oliver groaned, squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation, moaning her name, whimpering for her. He held onto her tighter, clinging to her as he thrust up into her, harder and harder, losing all rhythm, needing to join her, to feel their combined pleasure…

_To seal their love…_

Felicity whispered for him, urging him closer, cupping his face, her fingers running over him with a reverence that shook him to his very core.

Their eyes met, and so much love and warmth shone back at him, so much that he gasped, that he fell into their depths, and it was enough to fill him for eternity.

“Oliver…”

She didn’t have to say the words.

_He heard them._

Oliver came with a hoarse cry, emptying everything he had into her, his body jerking with each ripple of pleasure that sent him soaring to the stars just as much as it grounded him completely, grounded him right where he wanted to be, right where he _needed_ to be:

In her arms.

She held him tight, cradling him, riding it out with him, taking everything he was into her.

_I love you._

*

In my magical 5x20 universe, they make love in the bunker, but it’s not the only time. Their need for more is unspoken, but it’s so obvious, and they go back to the loft, spending the rest of the night with each other (including the kitchen, the bunker, the couch, the floor, a table, the bed… _because why not_ ). It’s after all this, when they’re dozing in bed together, curled together, their bodies well-used, that Felicity asks him not to tell anyone that they had sex in the bunker. It actually makes him laugh, out loud, a boisterous sound that fills not only the loft but both of them, making him feel so free…

Like maybe he was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel again.

They don’t talk about it, though, they don’t talk about what happened. It’s too soon to try a full relationship again, and they both know it, but there’s hope…

(At least on Oliver’s side. And then we go into the horrible pain that is the beginning of Season 5 and we all know how that goes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/160238350209/drabble-torches-olicity-5x20-spec-rated-m)
> 
> Reviews literally feed the soul and muse. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! (This was a nice break from Blood Hands, which has damn well taken over my life.)


	8. Just In Case (5x23 spec)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My spec based on this dialogue tease from the finale tonight:
> 
> "What was that for?"  
> "Just in case." 
> 
> Because it's for Olicity, right? Right. So says the fandom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this tweet](https://twitter.com/MattMitovich/status/867362899580379136)!

_They’d been here too many times before._

She wanted to say that. She wanted to scream it from the treetops so everyone would hear how frakking _ridiculous_  it was that just when they were on the cusp of having everything, something swooped in and turned the entire world upside down. Really, you think she’d be used to it, should even expect it. But it always surprised her, every single time.

This time was no different.

Felicity stared up at him. 

The words were on the tip of her tongue, everything she’d kept at bay since last summer - everything buried under fear and anger and hurt and regret - but she didn’t say any of it. Now was so not the time, and at the end of the day, the words weren’t necessary. She didn’t have to say any of it, not anymore. They both knew. They always had. So instead she gripped his suit, so tight her fingers hurt, pouring every ounce of love she felt for his man into these few precious seconds.

He did the same, and the love and gratitude and _openness_  staring back at her took her breath away.

The conversation they held with their eyes lasted all of a second, but it also felt like it encompassed an eternity.

Felicity nodded, her lips twitching in a small smile. It was reassuring, confident, strong, as much for him as it was for her. He returned it, but his had an edge of sadness hooked to it. She understood exactly what it meant - it wasn’t sadness fueled by regret, but sadness that they were back here, again, always.

Well, she thought, that just meant that when they got out of this, she was going to tell him to absolute hell with taking things one step at a time. She wanted him, she always had, and the wall that had been between them since the very beginning - the very, _very_  beginning, since always - was finally crumbling and she was ready to kick it down the rest of the way so there was nothing left but _them._ She was going to ask him to dinner, or have him over, ask him if he wanted to cook, but maybe not because she hadn’t done anything food-related in the loft kitchen since he left. Everything was dusty and unused, almost like it was all waiting for him. Sort of like her, she mused to herself, waiting for her to come back to herself, to him, to each other. So yes, definitely dinner, but maybe going out for dinner, like their first attempt at a date, only this time…  

Oliver’s lips twitched up again, this time with something softer - _with pure, radiant love_  - like he could read her thoughts. With a reverent, “Felicity,” he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. He barely left Felicity a second to react, for her lips to form a startled,  _‘Oh,’_ before he wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her up against his chest, his lips slanting over hers.

It was their first kiss in months, but it felt more like years. _Decades_. So much had changed and evolved and shifted over the last year and all of it was summed up in this one single moment, of them finally coming home to each other.

Just like their silent conversation, the kiss was short, but the weight of it made it feel longer, and Felicity knew it would resonate inside her for the rest of their lives. 

When they pulled apart, Felicity was a little breathless as she asked, “What was that for?”

Oliver licked his lips, brushing his forehead against hers before he set her down, stepping back. 

“Just in case,” he whispered, his fingers interlacing with hers.

It wasn’t sad, or tragic, or filled with any fear that they might not find each other again. 

The kiss was a symbol of a simple fact: he loved her.

Felicity pulled him back to her, grasping his hand tightly as her other came up to cup his cheek, to pull him down for one more kiss. 

This was one was quicker, but it was just as powerful.

Oliver’s eyes were closed when they pulled apart, his brow furrowed in question, and when they fluttered open, finding hers, Felicity smiled.   


“Just in case,” she said.  


_I love you, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/161030343699/just-in-case-olicity-5x23-spec)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.


	9. Home (post-5x23 fic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity goes somewhere else when the bombs go off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's easier to write new ficlets than go through the voluminous chapters of Blood Hands on the bus into work. This was supposed to be a fluffy ficlet based on a prompt, but apparently I've had enough fluff because this veered off into whatever this is. I tried some new things with this.
> 
> This picks up right where 5x23 left us.
> 
> *Slight Angst Warning*

The bombs beeped, arming one by one, the sound falling around them in a deafening cascade. The reality of what was about to happen sunk in just before the instinct to move roared in her ears.

Someone grabbed her arm, ripping her jacket as someone else nearby tripped in their haste to get away. For a second all she heard was the frantic shouts of her friends, felt the fear filling the air between them. And then she looked down at the bomb under her feet.

**“00:00:00”**

_“Go!”_

She ran.

But there was nowhere to go, no place where they’d survive.

A faint click sounded, one after the other. It chased after them, each bomb falling into its final phase, catching up to them way too fast.

_“No!”_

A boom shook the ground, followed by another, and another, the island cracking underneath them in cacophonous waves.

_Screams_.

Something hard hit her, slamming her to the ground, a rush of light blinding her… and then there was only pain as fire swallowed her whole.

_Darkness_.

*

_“May I have this dance?”_

_A hand appeared before her._

_It was a hand she knew well, better than her own._

_How many hours had she spent holding it, drawing her nail up and down each digit, her fingers playing with his, lacing together until there was nothing left but them? Countless. His skin held a perpetual tan from the years he had spent on the island. It’d faded more and more as the years went by, but it would always be enough to highlight the scars that littered the worn landscape of his flesh. Little bone-white marks mixed in with larger ones, deep gashes where knives had landed or where he’d caught an arrow. Long thin ones marred the insides of his fingers and palms, from catching a blade or a building edge that sliced through this gloves. His entire life was etched out on his skin - all over his body - but none more so than on his hands. Not only were they the gateway to him, but they were his tools, how he got through his life as the Mayor…_

_As the Green Arrow…_

_And as her husband._

_Warmth flooded her as memories laced their way through her. Memories of his hands brushing over her, sometimes featherlight, other times hard and demanding, winding in her hair, cupping her breast, or holding her hips, burying his long fingers deep inside her. Memories of his callused palms cradling her face, his fingertips drifting over her temples, tracing over her closed eyes, down the bridge of her nose and across her lips, touching her with a gentle wonder that made her chest ache with love._

_His hands had taken life with an ease that frightened him. It didn’t scare her, though, because she knew they had also given life. To their city. To the people he led as mayor. To his family, his friends, his loved ones._

_To her._

_And to their baby._

_Felicity grinned, an easy, happy, content smile as she looked up at him._

_He wiggled his fingers in invitation. His scars caught the overhead lights, making them shine._

_“Here?” she asked._

_“Here,” Oliver confirmed, his lips curling in a secretive smile that was all for her. His Felicity smile. It was soft and loving and her heart skipped a beat as it slowly grew. “C’mon,” he whispered. “Dance with me.”_

_Her hand landed in his and he gently tugged her to her feet, immediately wrapping his arms around her. She was barefoot, a full head shorter than him where he stood in his boots, but that hardly mattered. Oliver curled himself around her and her protruding belly as much as he could, holding her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. He smelled like the sea from being near the docks tonight, and like the forest. Like her Oliver. His green leather still held the chill of the wintry night air._

_With a sigh, Felicity leaned into his embrace. His arms tightened around her as she turned her face into his chest, nuzzling his Green Arrow jacket, swaying with him in the middle of the bunker to music only they could hear._

_Their hands tangled, her fingers brushing over the band on his left ring finger._

_Her ring._

_“Marry me,” Felicity whispered._

_Oliver chuckled. “Pretty sure I already said yes to that a while ago.” He pressed his cheek to hers, his long stubble brushing over her skin. His lips found her ear, his hands roving over her back with a husky, “Wife.”_

_Happiness washed through her, a shiver falling down her spine._

_“Yes, you did,” Felicity replied, looking up at him. “Husband.”_

_He grinned. Their noses brushed before his lips found hers in a kiss that was chaste but so full of passion it made her whimper for him._

_“I’m just saying,” she breathed, “we had a lot of missed opportunities.” Kiss. “A lot of missed moments.” This time she tasted him more thoroughly. His soft moan was delicious. “Marry me again, Oliver. And again. And again.”_

_“And again?” he repeated. She giggled and he kissed her, swallowing the sound. “I will marry you a hundred times more, Felicity Queen. A thousand times more. You are my always, my forever. You’ve given me everything…” His hand smoothed around her to cradle her stomach. Their son instantly responded to his touch, shoving a foot against his palm. Oliver looked at her. “And I will do everything in power to give you the world.”_

_“You already did,” she replied, cupping his face, her thumb grazing his cheek as her other hand covered his over her stomach. “The second you said yes, you did.”_

*

Felicity woke with fire in her lungs.

She coughed, black spittle coating her lips and chin. The rush of oxygen to her body was too much and she coughed harder, trying to roll over as the violent hacking rattled her ribs. She couldn’t move, though. Panic hit her and she gasped, but all she got was a mouthful of ash. Felicity gagged, sparks of light dancing against the back of her lids, her ears ringing as she tried to get back home.

_Home_.

But the comforting light and security of the bunker was gone. Oliver’s anchoring embrace had disappeared, leaving her to fall into a black hole of pain.

_They weren’t married. She wasn’t pregnant. She wasn’t with him._

Panic hit her harder, nausea ripping through her, and she gagged again.

It _hurt._

Her skin was frail like tissue paper, so dry and tight, and every single inch of her ached like she’d been…

_In an explosion._

Memories hit her in a tidal wave.

“Oh god,” she tried to say, her throat closing as all of it hit her at once. “Oh god, _no_.”

The words came out in a ragged gasp, her insides too dry to make a sound. It only added to the horror building in her chest. She tried opening her eyes, but they were as frail and delicate as the rest of her, watering with the little moisture that was left in her body. The salty liquid burned like acid as she tried to see through the blurry darkness where she was, if she had really survived.

And if anyone else had.

_Oliver?_

Shock and fear had her choking on a dry heave. Had he gotten to William in time? Had they gotten clear of the bombs in time… Or were they dead, too?

_No!_

Felicity managed to push herself up onto an elbow - _she had to get to him_ \- but her body was _so heavy._

“Take it easy,” a voice drawled. Felicity jumped, turning to the sound. She moved too fast, losing the little balance she had, and she collapsed. A hand landed on her shoulder, urging her to stay down. “Easy. You need to save your energy.”

“What?” Felicity managed, the words an ugly croak, trying to turn to the person. “Who…?”

“Felicity?”

She recognized that voice. The world finally started clearing, the ringing in her ears abating, and Felicity looked up in time to see Thea rushing towards her. She was bloodied and limping, covered in soot and dirt, but she was okay.

They were _all_ okay, she saw, finally looking around.

A relieved sob fell from Felicity’s throat.

“Easy there,” the mystery voice said, a heavy hand coming up to ward Thea off. Frustration crossed Thea’s face, but she listened. Felicity looked up to find Slade Wilson hovering over her. “We need the helicopter,” he told the youngest Queen. “She reopened her wounds.”

She had wounds? No, that wasn’t right, she was fine. Felicity tried moving, but all her energy had evaporated as quickly as the fire had sapped all the moisture from her. She told herself to lift her arms, to use her legs to get up, to use her voice to find out what had happened, to demand to know where they were, where _Oliver_ was…

It was only then that she realized how cold she was.

Where was the fire?

Felicity blinked, opening her mouth for a slurred, “What’s it…” Her tongue was too heavy. A face moved over hers, the mouth moving, someone speaking. She couldn’t see it… but she didn’t have to. Her mind filled in the blanks. Felicity smiled, letting herself relax as she whispered, “ _Oliver_.”

“Damn it,” someone snapped, but it was far away.

Oliver disappeared, taking her heart with him.

_No…_

The world started to fade.

Felicity frowned as darkness encroached on the edges of everything.

_This is bad._

She blinked at the thought, trying to focus, to stay awake, but her lids were lead. Dots peppered her vision, coloring the dull landscape before her eyes finally fluttered shut.

It was so much nicer in the darkness. That was a weird thought. Right? It should be, she was sure of it.

A voice spoke to her, a hand on her shoulder, a heavier one on her stomach, but it was a dull pressure, even as it pressed down so hard.

Was she dying?

Felicity wanted to go back to the bunker where she’d been dancing with Oliver, their baby cradled between them, so happy. So loved and warm and perfect.

She wanted to go home.

Felicity tried to move her arms, to get back to that utopia, but her body was filling with sand. The lame attempt to move was more of a sluggish gesture before her hand fell limply to the stone floor.

Darkness everywhere. A light danced far in the distance. From the bunker? Was Oliver there?

“Tell Oliver to hurry.”

“Oliver?” Felicity croaked.

Her heart jumped and her eyes flew open, everything coming into sharp focus. She tried to sit up, but white hot pain lanced through her center, making her cry out as it flooded through her like lava. Slade was saying something, trying to hold her still, but she didn’t want to be still. She wanted Oliver. She wanted her _home_. She thought she heard Thea speaking over the rush of other voices, but the only thing she cared about was getting back to him.

Who was screaming?

“Give me the comm,” Slade ordered, his voice echoing off the cave walls as he waved a bloody hand over Felicity. “She needs to hear his voice or she’s going to bleed out right here.”

The world blacked out on her again, but this time she held on, so tightly her bones ached, a scream ripping from her chest. No, _no_ , she wasn’t going anywhere without Oliver, not ever again.

_Where are you?_

Something hard slapped her cheek.

Felicity’s eyes flew open to a wash of red before everything righted itself. Slade was leaning over her, shoving something against her ear, saying, “Listen to him, Felicity, he’s right here. Easy, easy…”

She thought about fighting him, about pushing him away like he was the one keeping Oliver away from her… but then she heard _his_ voice.

“Felicity?”

_Oh god, thank god._

Calmness washed through her, a cooling sensation that left her crumpling to the ground. A broken sob fell from her throat and she found enough strength to pull her hand up to her ear, to push the comm in deeper as she whispered, “Oliver?”

“Oh thank god, honey, thank god you’re okay,” he gasped. Tears she didn’t know she had burned her eyes as he spoke - _he’s okay, he’s alright, he’s alive_ \- and she tried opening her mouth, tried responding, but the energy she’d found a moment ago had once again evaporated. She just laid there, listening to him, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to breathe, trying to find the strength to tell him… Oliver spoke for her. “We’re okay, everyone’s okay. I wasn’t on the island when Chase… he killed himself, setting the bombs off and _god, I didn’t know_ , I didn’t know if you’d survived, if you were okay, and I thought…”

His voice cracked, trailing off, and for the first time she registered just how tired and uneven he was, his words coming out in manic jolts that she almost couldn’t understand.

“Oliver,” Felicity interrupted, and he instantly stopped, going still on the other end of the comm, even holding his breath. She smiled, saying the first thing that came to mind. “Marry me.”

“What?”

“Marry me,” she repeated, her voice fading. “Marry me.”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation, the word coming out in a choked whimper that she couldn’t understand. “God, yes, Felicity, I’ll marry you. Yes. _Yes._ ”

She was asking him to share his life with her and he was crying. She shook her head, wanting to tell him she didn’t want to make him sad. This was a good thing, a joyous thing, something to celebrate and rejoice about because she was done secretly waiting and hoping that they would happen again. She wanted him, she’d always wanted him, and she was going to marry him.

“Felicity, stay with me…”

“I’m here…”

“ _Felicity!_ ”

She tried speaking, tried reaching out to him, but she was so tired… She heard him saying something more, but everything was fading again. She held onto his voice, though, anchored herself to it. The distraught line in his voice felt so out of place, and she tried to tell him everything was going to be okay…

But then it hit her: he must know more about her condition than she did.

He wasn’t sure she was going to survive.

_Like hell._

She was going to live, damn it.

“I’m going to marry you,” Felicity said, her words slurring.

Oliver laughed, his tears evident in his voice. “Damn right you are. I’m on my way to you right now.”

Right now? Well, that was fast. “Yeah,” she breathed. “I think I’d like a beach wedding…” Only later would she know she was on the edge of bleeding to death right there in the middle of an underground cave that was buried under the rubble of Lian Yu. “That’s nice…”

“Felicity!” His voice was fading. “Hey, stay with me, Felicity. Felicity. _Felicity._ I’m almost there. I’m almost there, baby, keep talking to me… Please keep talking, oh god… I’m going to marry you, Felicity. On a beach, I’m going to marry you on a beach we choose, okay? How about Bali? Do you remember when we were at that one beach, with the fire pits and there was that party, and we danced all night, and god, you were so beautiful… It’ll be just like that…”

She remembered, she remembered everything.

And the last thing she remembered was the sound of Oliver’s voice in her ear, lulling her into the peaceful darkness.

*

Felicity Megan Smoak died that day.

But Slade Wilson brought her back.

As Oliver unburied them, Slade kept her alive, performing a makeshift transfusion with his own blood that kept her heart going until Oliver reached them. The effects of the mirakuru might have faded off, but the serum was still in Slade’s blood, and it was that that pulled her back from the brink, that helped correct the new damage the explosion had done to Felicity’s spine as she was flown across the sea back to Star City.

Oliver was at her side the entire time, her hand clenched tightly in his.

They got married the second she was healthy enough to fly, not wasting one more single precious second. It was on the beach, in Bali, just like how Oliver had described in those harrowing moments between life and death.

All their loved ones were there. William was Oliver’s best man. Diggle walked Felicity down the aisle. Curtis officiated. Even Slade was there. (He had reunited with his own son - who was super sane and chill - and was now in therapy because obvs.)

Two years later, the ‘home’ that Felicity had dreamed about when she’d been on the edge of death came true. It became a nightly tradition for Oliver to come back to the bunker after they’d saved the city (again) to dance with his family before going home. It started with just the two of them, then it grew to three, then four, five, and eventually _six_ (because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and because the stresses of their day and night jobs led to birth control mistakes that led to the happiest joys they could ask for).

Oliver and Felicity grew old together, living a full life surrounded by their family and friends.

And they lived happily ever after.

(Because they’ve been through enough shit.)

The End 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/162050041159/home-olicity-post-5x23-ficlet)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews feed the soul and muse.


	10. Hunger (5x20 Missing Scene, 1/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scenes from 5x20 "Underneath" - 1/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mini-series of drabbles and ficlets for 5x20! There are nine total and I will be posting one a day until it's finished.
> 
> Written for Jesi, who wrote me [Monopoly smut](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11525835) in exchange for 5x20 ficlets.

  
[gif src](http://bratvaolicity.tumblr.com/post/160300950080/you-two-look-ridiculously-good-together-5x20)

There were a thousand things he’d never forget.

_… the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed; how she tucked her thumb underneath his when they laced their fingers together; the curve of her waist when she laid on her side; the scrape of her toenails against his calves as she shoved her toes into his socks…_

And then there were the things he vowed to cherish for as long as he lived, only to slowly lose them as time passed.

Like how _soft_ her lips were.

The buzz of alcohol faded away, leaving nothing but this moment. The kiss was tender, gentle…  a little unsure. It’d been so long since he’d held her in his arms much less felt the press of her lips against his and he didn’t know what to do. He wanted more - _god_ , he wanted more - but as much as it was like before, something was _new_. It was everything he dreamed of when he let his guard down, everything he let himself wish for, everything he missed… and it was unexplored territory. The passion they had for each other - the _need_ \- was there, but it slipped into the background as they just…

As they just _felt_.

They weren’t the same anymore, either of them, and he could taste the difference in the kiss. So much had happened and changed - around them, between them. And yet, it _was_ the same. Because it was _Felicity_ and she was…

 _Everything_.

Hope cracked open in his chest, shining light through his entire being.

Their lips broke apart, but just for a second, and even that second was too long. Every inch of him _vibrated_ , excitement and anticipation and wonder dancing over the surface of his skin. She touched him, just as tentative as he was, and it was almost like she was waiting for him to further confirm that this was okay. _Yes, god yes, don’t stop, never stop._ Oliver’s heart hammered and his fingers shook as he touched her hip, and then her waist. Felicity shuddered, her lips parting with a breathy gasp, her body lighting up under his touch in a way that had fire rushing through him.

She was so close, all it would take was one tiny move and then he could taste her again. But he didn’t move. Oliver took a shaky breath, pausing. He was ready to wait for her, to let her take them to the next step…

But then her hand brushed over his shoulder and his fingers grazed the bare skin at her back and it was too much.

With a breathless moan, Oliver yearned towards her and she was right there, waiting for him.

Their lips found each other again and the floodgates opened.

Her tongue tasted his bottom lip and he moaned deep in his chest, opening for her. She tasted like wine, like sunshine and smiles, like every moment of laughter and joy they’d shared. This kiss was slower, but so much more passionate. Delight clashed with a rush of desire that made his knees weak as they took their time, as they just _reveled_ in each other, in the fact that this was happening at all.

Oliver wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. She wound her arm around his neck, pressing the the full length of her body into his. She felt so _good_. With a needy whimper, he slid his hand up under her shirt, splaying his hand over her naked back. She rocked into him, and his body tightened, warmth and excitement filling him to the brim.

That, and _love_.

_This is happening. This is really happening._

Oliver deepened the kiss, his fingers pressing into her skin hard enough to make her shiver as he rediscovered the love of his life…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/165479063514/hunger-5x20-mature-19-gif-src-title-from)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!


	11. Hunger (5x20 Missing Scene, 2/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scenes from 5x20 "Underneath" - 2/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response! I'm so glad you are enjoying this little series so far. My writing has been... uneven (not the writing itself, but the literal act of sitting down and writing), so any and all comments are so, so appreciated!
> 
> Enjoy!

  
[gif src](http://whoeveryoulovethemost.tumblr.com/post/160302359241/oliver-and-felicity-kissing-i-missed-this)

Her head was spinning.

She remembered Oliver’s hands on her waist when he helped her down from the salmon ladder, how _huge_ they’d been, and strong. It’d been the most natural thing in the world to settle against him and hold on as he safely lowered her to the ground. It wasn’t just the intoxicating feel of his chest against hers that’d pushed her over the edge, though, or the way the front of their pants brushed together, the hem of his jeans pressing into her, or his tiny puffs of air or even the way their noses touched.

It was the sense of security she felt in his arms, the knowledge that he had her, like always.

She’d just kissed him. She hadn’t let herself think twice, or wonder if this was crazy, or give a frak about the consequences. She just kissed him. She _jumped_. And now…

Now her head was spinning and every nerve in her body was fraying at the edges, ready to crumble to pieces at the slightest pressure. Heat and desire whipped through her. It grew stronger with each second that they kissed, his lips a tender balance between soft and demanding, needing her as much as she needed him.

Felicity didn’t let herself think. She didn’t want to think. She wanted to _feel_.

And she did.

His palm was scorching against her lower back. His fingers dug in with needy insistence, his body hardening deliciously. His stubble scraped her chin and it felt so good and _perfect_ that she shivered. Her nipples pebbled and ached, only abating when she pressed her breasts into his chest, earning a low growl from him that she more felt than heard. Heat pooled in her stomach and her lower half yearned towards him, throbbing, growing slick…

It was so natural, so _right_. It was everything. He was everything and god, she was so glad she’d kissed him, that he’d kissed her back, that this was happening.

_Yes, yes, yes._

_I love you._

Her inner mantra didn’t register as she rocked into him. He caught the gentle movement, rocking with her, pushing her back just enough that her feet settled on the ground again.

The kiss slowed and they pulled back just enough catch their breath. Oliver’s lips hovered over hers, and it was almost lazy, like he was as caught up as she was, lost in sensation, the world fading away, leaving nothing but them. It was so erotic, that tiny moment, that her heart tripped all over itself.

But she wanted more. She never wanted it to stop.

Felicity moved to cup his face, to bring his lips back to hers - to _hold_ him there - but then Oliver was already kissing her again, his lips searing, making her whimper.

He pushed his hand further up her shirt. It was a split second, that’s all, but it was enough for his fingers to brush over the sensitive line where she’d lost sensation before. The chip had restored everything the bullet had taken away from her, but it hadn’t been able to erase the new routes her nerves had taken, including that little band right around her middle.

It was just as sensitive, if not more.

A thousand memories assaulted her, of all the nights she and Oliver had spent exploring their new situation, of discovering how incredibly tender she was there, and how the band grew more sensitive as her arousal grew.

Like right now.

His fingers brushed over it and Felicity gasped. A slice of need heading straight for her center as she jerked against him, her nipples and sex tingling. He grabbed her hip, knowing exactly what he’d just done, and that it made him pull her closer and hold her up, his lips never leaving hers…

Felicity moaned.

She needed _more_ , right now. She needed _him._ She needed his naked skin against hers, needed to _feel_ him, feel his heat and desire and feel all of it _inside_ her.

With a whimper, her fingers grabbed at the hem of his shirt…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/165511840944/hunger-5x20-mature-29-gif-src-title-from)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!


	12. Hunger (5x20 Missing Scene, 3/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scenes from 5x20 "Underneath" - 3/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm editing the last three installments of this series, the first six are definite drabble status while those last three delve into the land of ficlets.
> 
> Written for Jesi!

  
  
[gif src](http://gothsmoak.tumblr.com/post/160284629751)

He was soaring.

She had his shirt off before he could blink, her nails scraping over his belt and abs to grab at it before tugging it over his head. Oliver stared at her with hooded eyes, letting the material slip off his arm and land in a messy heap at their feet. She was stunning, her skin flush, her cheeks rosy, lips already swollen from their kisses.

Felicity only had eyes for his mouth, and the desire he saw there transfixed him, made him even harder, his pants starting to feel too tight.

She grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his lips back to hers.

Oliver damn near fell against her as she devoured him. She kissed him with an eagerness and need that he felt in his bones, taking what they both wanted in a way that had fire racing through his veins. His hands found her waist to pull her back against him, needing to counter his painful hardness with her softness. Her nipples were hard enough to press through the material of her shirt and bra, and he hummed deep in his chest as she arched her back, pressing them into his chest again. The shirt was soft and warm…

And in the fucking way.

He thought about pushing his hands under her shirt again to pull it off - and he damn near popped his pants at just the thought of touching the spot that’d made her melt in his arms just a second ago - but then he remembered the buttons. Oh, he knew those buttons. She’d worn this shirt before and when he was positive she wasn’t looking, he’d stared at them, thinking about all the ways he could undo them - slowly, quickly, hard and fast, one at a time, kissing every inch her shirt revealed as he pulled it apart…

_Yes._

The urge to do that overwhelmed him and he was moving before he could think.

Oliver grabbed her shoulders and spun her. Her lips fell from his with a gasp as she let him, falling into the movement with an ease that took his breath away.

And one that reminded him of all the other times he’d done just this.

His arousal spiked as memories assaulted him.

All the times when she’d had clothes on - dresses, skirts, blouses - and she’d asked him to unbutton them. Sometimes he undid them quickly, other times he took his time, his lips and tongue exploring her back and shoulders and the delicate trail of her spine. Sometimes he’d just walked up behind her, grabbing her hips, pulling her ass back against him. Other times he’d smoothed his hand up her spine, pushing her down over a table, a stool, the couch, the bed, a counter, shoving himself against her as she ground back against him. And then there were the times she was already naked, skin hot from the shower or chilled from being out in the field with him, and he’d spun her around, bending her over, thrusting home…

The memories hit him fast and hard and he struggled to breath as he looked down at the buttons of her shirt. He grabbed the first one gently, but his damn fingers were shaking - not with nerves, but with a need that was the result of this moment and the thousands they’d shared before. And the _intimacy_ of it. The _trust_ she showed him, the trust she always showed him. It shook him to his core, making his fingers tremble even more. He tried for two seconds, but when the button barely budged, he gave up.

Oliver leaned in, whispering, “If you could just…” She was already ten steps ahead of him. She yanked her shirt off, leaving her in nothing but her bra. Her eagerness had him grinning as he chuckled out a quiet, “Thank you.”

Felicity’s grin matched his as she turned back to him, stepping into his open arms, their lips finding each other again. right now… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/165548913494/hunger-5x20-mature-39-gif-src-title-from)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!


	13. Hunger (5x20 Missing Scene, 4/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scenes from 5x20 "Underneath" - 4/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Jesi!

  
  
[gif src](http://westallenolicitygifs.tumblr.com/post/160289726354)

She couldn’t get enough of him.

That had always been true, but there was something different this time. There was a pressing urgency that had her kissing him harder, had her pushing herself closer, needing to deepen the kiss, to taste more of him, to _feel_ more of him. It overwhelmed her and she was powerless to do anything but give in. It’d been so long since she’d felt him like this, since she’d _let_ herself feel how much she wanted him. She’d tucked it away all those months ago, buried it deep, shoving it into the corner of denial, because that was the only way she had been able to handle being around him without touching him whenever she wanted to, like she had before.

Her feelings has been working their way free, though, these last few weeks, with small touches and secret smiles and soft voices that she hadn’t let herself indulge in for so long.

But now it was out, and it was _months_ of emotions she hadn’t let herself feel and it was all hitting her at once and she _needed him right now._

Felicity kissed him harder. She pushed herself up onto her toes, wrapping herself around him, shuddering at the feel of his chest against her naked flesh. She thought about tugging her bra off, but that would mean no longer touching and kissing him and she didn’t want to stop. She couldn’t.

He was right there with her, kissing her back with equal ardor, his hand ghosting over her hair, to her shoulder.

 _More, more, more_.

Sensation rained through her. Her hands slid over his chest, delighting in his nipples against her palms, and then his abs. His hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing over her jaw, his fingers pushing through her hair to cradle the back of her head. She loved when he held her like that, gentle enough to make her heart ache. He was breathing as hard as she was and she grabbed his waist, pushing herself up to deepen the kiss.

He suddenly stopped, whispering a barely audible, “Felicity,” against her lips.

She froze. Blood pounded through her ears and her breaths came out in short gasps before she pulled back. It took her a second to get her bearings, to not give into the urge to just kiss him, to respond. Her eyes darted down to the bulge in his pants that was pressing into her lower stomach, the one he was ignoring to tell her something. Felicity slowly looked up at him from under heavy lids as he pushed her hair off her face. His fingers brushed over her cheeks, so softly, so tenderly…

The world stopped when their eyes met.

All the things she hadn’t let herself feel reflected back at her. So much had changed in their lives, especially between them, but the one thing that would never change?

How much they loved each other.

Felicity’s heart took off, nearly leaping right out of her chest as he stared at her… as he tried to see if they were on the same page. They were. They always had been, even when it was close to shredding, they had always managed to still be there when it counted.

This didn’t fix anything, it couldn’t, but… but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have one moment. That _they_ couldn’t have one moment, let themselves give in.

_Because I love you. I’ve always loved you and I always will, no matter what._

A tiny smile tugged at Oliver’s lips, and it slowly grew as he gazed down at her. Felicity stared at him… and then the final barrier between them fell away. She _let go_. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding onto that tiny thread of sanity until this moment, but she had and now, she let it go. She jumped into the moment, into her love for him that was so powerful and all-encompassing that it was blinding.

He saw it.

Felicity smiled, a real smile, and he returned it.

They moved at the same time, coming together in a kiss that rocked her to her core.

It was different, nothing holding them back, no longer tentative or cautious. They were both on the same page again and they both jumped towards each other, where they belonged… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/165583315109/hunger-5x20-mature-49-gif-src-title-from)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!


	14. Hunger (5x20 Missing Scene, 5/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scenes from 5x20 "Underneath" - 5/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Jesi!

  
[gif src](http://oliverxfelicity.tumblr.com/post/160286011971/320-406-520)

Oliver kissed her like a dying man.

There was no more hesitation as they moved together, giving and taking equally, kissing each other with an abandon he hadn’t felt before. Joy radiated through him as they wrapped around each other, losing themselves in the moment. This was what he’d been craving, he realized, this abandon. They’d been so _careful_ with each other, and even though things between them had been simpler these last few weeks, they hadn’t been able to escape that feeling of walking on eggshells.

No more.

Felicity moaned and he took full advantage of her open mouth, plundering her. She returned the kiss with vigor, a new smile on her lips. It tasted like heaven and he wanted more of it, so much more.

Oliver leaned down and grabbed her leg, hiking her up into his arms. Felicity wrapped around him as he dug his fingers into her thigh. Her stomach rubbed against his, hot and smooth, her bra a harsh contrast where it scraped over his scars. He held her tighter, slipping his hand up her thigh, brushing over her ass. He squeezed just enough to make her whimper, to make her hips jerk against him.

As Felicity wrapped her lips around his bottom one, tugging it into her mouth, mirroring what he loved to do to her, she held onto him tighter and arched her back…

It was his turn to gasp as she rotated her hips, rubbing her hot sex against him. She brushed over his buckle and then his stomach. His abs clenched, his dick swelling, but that was nothing compared to when she dropped her hips, right over the hard ridge in his jeans.

Oliver choked out a quiet moan, his fingers digging in again before sliding down to her thigh again. He held her close as he stepped back, slowly, sliding his feet back to find the raised training platform… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/165618653434/hunger-5x20-mature-59-gif-src-title-from)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews feed the soul and muse!


	15. Hunger (5x20 Missing Scene, 6/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scenes from 5x20 "Underneath" - 6/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Jesi!

  
[gif src](http://felicitys.tumblr.com/post/160284174101)

She didn’t remember him moving.

Every inch of her was focused on his lips, on the way his mouth moved under hers, how his stubble burned her chin when she angled her head to deepen the kiss. The play of his muscles under her hands had fiery need scorching her veins, and she held him tighter, remembering with a vivid alacrity how those muscles moved when he made love to her.

One second he was standing, holding her tight, and the next he was lowering them down to the training platform where they’d had their picnic.

It was perfect in a way that would make her laugh one day. This was their place. Not this specific room, but what it represented. It was the melding between their two worlds, in so many ways. It was the space between Oliver Queen and the Green Arrow, Felicity Smoak and Overwatch. It was that precious place where they didn’t have to be one or the other, where they could be both, where they could be themselves.

And it was always in that space where they finally found each other again.

Oliver settled back on the platform, cradling her in his lap. Passion spun out between them, igniting the air, but that didn’t diminish the gentle sigh he let out, or the way his hand tightened against her waist. It had a tinge of possessiveness in it, as much as it translated how much his need matched hers… but it also had _wonder_. The sound of contentment filled in all the cracks she’d been living with all these months and she melted against him.

His hand swung out for balance as he scooted back. Just like the wonder she tasted on his lips, the soft way he held her helped heal parts of her she thought she’d put to rest. This is what she’d been missing, she realized, the dichotomy of madness and quiet, of rushed and slow, of love and lust. She moaned, following him down. A piece of her hair got caught in his beard and she swept it away, pushing it behind her ear as he leaned back, taking her with him.

Their lips broke apart as he fell, his muscles contracting underneath her. Her hips were all instinct as she rubbed against the bulge in his pants and a whine slipped from her throat when his hardness pressed into her heat, right where she needed him. A ghost of a smile pulled at her lips - half in her own wonder, half in the power of the desire she saw reflected back at her in his eyes. His lids grew heavier, his lips parting in a pant as he stared up at her.

It was her turn to pause, to drink him in, to take stock. The air between them was charged, with their need as much as the emotion they hadn’t let themselves feel for so long. Her heart filled to the point of bursting, suddenly vividly aware of every single spot he touched her.

This was where she belonged, in his arms, bathed in the heat and love in his eyes. She never wanted the moment to end.

But the pull between them was irresistible.

Felicity leaned over him, arching her back to thrust her hips down into his, and he met her halfway, arching up to capture her lips.

He _devoured_ her. He took every inch of her that she gave him, kissing her with such intensity she saw stars. He cupped the back of her head, his other hand sliding down her back. It wasn’t enough. With a gasp, Felicity deepened the kiss, and it was his turn to fall under her onslaught as she took control, grinding down against him. His hand slipped down her neck, through her hair, his fingers grabbing her bra strap, tugging it down as his other hand found her ass, pushing her even closer. The sudden pressure made them both moan.

The pleasure they sought in each other’s arms unfurled, growing hotter, urging them to move faster, harder until all that was left was ripping off their clothes just enough so there was nothing left in their way.

Felicity angled her hips and he found her entrance. Her desperate whine echoed his guttural moan as he brushed through her wetness. It’s been so long since she’d felt him there, since they’d been able to do this, but at the same time it was like no time has passed at all.

They moved at the same time, finding each other in a way that defied time and reason, that had all the problems that still existed between them fading away.

There was nothing but this moment, the sounds of their pleasure filling the room, soft touches and desperate kisses punctuating every thrust, heart-stopping emotion taking their breath away, sensation pushing them to a torturous edge they finally fell over together.

There was just each other.

And that was all that mattered.

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Tumblr Post
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!


	16. Hunger (5x20 Missing Scene, 7/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scenes from 5x20 "Underneath" - 7/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I am raising the rating for this chapter to Explicit!**
> 
> Written for Jesi!

“So…”

He dragged his fingers down her back.

She was still sprawled on top of him, her pants hanging off one foot, his shoved down to his ankles, her bra turned inside out next to his head. Neither of them were ready to move, not yet. She shivered when he reached the sensitive little band where her paralysis used to begin - the spot where he’d spent countless hours exploring where the nerves started and ended, heightening her senses until she was writhing on their bed, her hands making tight fists in the sheets, gasping for him to stop teasing her.

A small smile touched his lips. He was quickly learning that spot was just as sensitive as it’d once been, if not more. He splayed his hand over her lower back, brushing his fingers over the base of her spine.

Her breath hitched and her inner walls clenched around him where he was still buried deep inside her, making him gasp.

“That happened,” Oliver finished breathlessly.

Felicity smiled. “Yep.”

He hummed, pressing his face into her hair, his free hand brushing stray strands from her face. “I’m glad it did.”

She turned, kissing his palm. “Me too.”

Oliver smiled, pressing his lips to her temple. She burrowed into him and he wrapped his arms tighter around her, whispering, “Are you cold? Do you want me to get some blankets?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want this to end.”

“Me neither.”

Felicity pinched her lips together before she propped herself up to look down at him.

The move had him almost sliding out of her.

Oliver quickly brought his legs up, anchoring her, nowhere near ready to leave her warmth yet. His half-hard erection slid deeper into her. He licked his lips with a satisfied sigh and her eyes dropped down to his mouth, darkening, becoming a little glassy, and not just from the wine. He twitched inside her. She felt it, judging by the way her lids fluttered shut.

It was a heady realization.

She could _feel him._

Oliver cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her flushed skin before pressing his other hand into her spine. Without warning, he rolled his hips up and thrust his growing hardness deeper into her.

“ _Oh_.” Felicity’s mouth fell open and he did it again, watching her reaction from under heavy lids. She dug her face into his palm, meeting his thrusts with her own. She rotated her hips with a choked, “Oh god, that…” and he clenched his jaw in response, hissing through his teeth when her silken walls clamped down around him again.

They stayed like that for a moment, rocking together, before Oliver wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. She moaned, digging her face into his neck, dropping a series of open-mouthed kisses down to the hollow of his throat.

Oliver held her tighter, pressing her hips down so he could go deeper. The move had her clit dragging over his pubic bone and she shuddered, clinging to him, her breath hot against his throat. Without even thinking, Oliver dragged his fingernails over the invisible band. Her inner walls spasmed around him and the moan that fell from deep in her chest was gorgeous.

_More._

He did it again, dragging his nails over the sensitive band.

“Oh god,” Felicity groaned, arching her back, bracing herself over him for leverage as she thrust down. Her breasts swayed over him, her nipples a gorgeous dusky pink, already hard. His mouth ached to taste them. Oliver leaned forward, capturing one of the little beads between his lips. He swirled his tongue around her nipple and Felicity’s arms trembled with the effort to keep herself up as she babbled, “Oh god, oh _god_ … Oliver…!”

He released her with a whispered, “Is it different?” His breath touched her wet flesh and she shuddered again, nearly collapsing. A dozen memories of doing just this assaulted him and this time he did it on purpose as he blew air across her nipple. She cried out, and he heard her nails digging into the training mat next to his head. She hadn’t answered his question. “Is it different with the chip?”

Felicity bit her lip, eyes still squeezed shut, giving him a barely perceptible nod. “Do you…” She swallowed, licking her lips, and he could tell she was quickly losing herself in the onslaught of sensation he was raining down on her. “Do you remember how sensitive…?”

Oh, he remembered. The more they’d explored her reactions, what she could feel and couldn’t feel, the more sensitive she’d gotten. And not just that little band or her breasts, but _everywhere_.

Oliver dragged both hands up her back, using his fingertips to respond for him. Earlier had been all frantic, about reconnecting and being together again, but now he wanted to take his time, to be with her, to _feel_ her. Felicity shuddered and he slid his hands to her front, brushing over her breasts before finding her collarbone. She was so sensitive there and her arms almost gave out when he touched the delicate bone.

She whimpered. “Oliver…”

That helpless sound was his undoing.

He wanted more. He wanted to _do_ more, see more, feel more, give her so much more.

Oliver pulled her back down and rolled them over. Felicity held on, following his lead without question, gasping when her back hit the chilly mat. It was only when he pulled out of her that her eyes flew open with a frown. A shadow flashed through her eyes and he shook his head \- _no shadows, no guilt, no worries._ He kissed her solidly, trying to chase them away. He wasn’t ready for the real world, he wasn’t ready to face an existence where this wasn’t a normal occurrence anymore. It was desperate and almost pathetic, but he didn’t care.

_Not yet, not yet, please._

It took a moment, but she finally melted underneath him again. He sat up and pulled her jeans and panties off her leg before quickly getting rid of his shoes and pants. When they were both naked, Felicity opened her arms to him, but he settled next to her instead of on top of her.

He wanted to worship her like he used to.

“Oliver… c’mere…”

“I’m here,” he replied, hovering over her.

Felicity pushed her hands into his hair, angling her body towards his, but he kept her where she was. Her urgency was tangible, but he wasn’t ready for that. He was hard, growing harder by the second, and it didn’t help when the head of his erection slid over the softness of her hip. He inhaled sharply, and she felt it, knowing exactly what he needed. But before she could make her case, Oliver’s mouth slanted over hers. She whimpered, cupping his face as he slid his arm under her head before urging her to lay back.

“I need you,” she whispered.

“I’m right here.”

Her nose crinkled up in frustration, and he grinned against her lips as she said, “You know exactly what I mean.”

Oliver chuckled. “I do,” he replied, taking advantage of their position to kiss her even deeper, swallowing the rest of her protests. “But first…”

He dragged his fingers down the center of her body.

Her breath caught, her nails digging into his scalp as his hand drifted between her breasts and down her stomach.

Felicity fell back against his arm, lips parting in a pant as she glanced down at where he touched her. He followed her gaze, his body tightening when her skin quivered under his fingertips. Her breasts swayed with each stilted breath, her nipples standing tall, the flush that colored her cheeks reaching all the way down to the creamy flesh there, just like he remembered. She inhaled deeply, her stomach concaving, creating a valley for him to explore.

His fingers slid down, brushing over her belly button. She took a quick breath, the planes under his hand jolting in time with it. She was so sensitive, so much more than before. Oliver did it again, dancing over her soft skin, teasing her. He marveled at the goosebumps that erupted under his touch, and he bit the tip of his tongue when her legs scissored together to ease the ache between her thighs. That sight alone was almost enough for him to crawl over her and thrust home.

_Not yet._

He wanted this to last. He _needed_ it to.

That didn’t stop his from eyes drifting down to the smooth skin waiting for him. His erection swelled, his fingers faltering.

Oliver swallowed hard… and looked at her as he moved his hand lower.

Their eyes found each other at the same time.

For a split second he thought the shadows were back, but they were gone with a blink, leaving nothing but desire. Her pupils were blown wide, her lip swollen and wet, her brow tight with need.

God, she was so beautiful it _hurt._

“Felicity,” he rasped.

She nodded just as Oliver’s lips fell on hers. The kiss was desperate and hard, resonating deep inside him as his hand slipped between her thighs…  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/165693075714/hunger-5x20-explicit-79-title-from-hunger-by)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.


	17. Hunger (5x20 Missing Scene, 8/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scenes from 5x20 "Underneath" - 8/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I am raising the rating for this chapter to Explicit!**
> 
> Written for Jesi!

Every inch of her shook.

Oliver’s lips moved over hers, tasting her, his head angling to capture her bottom lip between his. Her core ached at the press of his stubble in contrast with his fingers lightly trailing down to where she needed him the most.

But that wasn’t what was making her shake.

He was kissing her like he used to, back before they’d found Ivy Town.

There was a quiet desolation underneath his passion that tore through her, a tremor of uncertainty, like the entire world would slip from his fingers if he didn’t keep touching her.

Had he been doing that all night?

Felicity gripped him tighter as a thin thread of anguish winding around her heart.

The wine was fading and reality was starting to make itself known, little shards that pierced through the haze of desire and feelings that they’d been shrouded in all night. But it’d been longer than that, hadn’t it? It’d been happening for weeks, so slowly she hadn’t realized it until Curtis basically threw them together. And she’d gone along with it, because it felt so right. No, because it _was_ right. There was absolutely no denying that. Everything about them always felt right when they let their guards down, when they let themselves back into that peaceful bubble where their troubles didn’t exist, where their world was right again. But it wasn’t. Because nothing had changed. Their feelings for each other were ever present - _stronger_ \- but that didn’t change what had happened.

And what _hadn’t_ happened.

Felicity sighed. The breathy sound ended in a near-silent cry as tears suddenly burned her eyes.

_No._

She didn’t want to think. Because when she did she heard the faint ringing of the alarms in the back of her mind. She’d heard them when she admitted she didn’t want this moment to end, and again when Oliver had pulled out of her, when the reality of what they were doing was sinking in deeper and deeper with each passing minute.

God, it would be so easy to keep falling, to just let go, to pretend they could move forward the way they were now, loving each other and hoping - _praying_ \- that it would be enough.

But they couldn’t do that. _She_ couldn’t do that.

A tear slid from the corner of her eye, streaking into her hair.

 _No_.

This was a moment, a single moment, and they were allowed to have that. Things might not have changed between them, but she still loved him - _god, she loved him so much_ \- and he was here, in her arms, surrounding her, kissing her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Because to him she was, as much as he still was to her.

_I love you. I love you so much and I wish…_

Felicity pushed it all down and away.

She had him now, and that was all that mattered.

Felicity surrendered to it.

Blinking tears from her eyes, she let out a shuddery sigh, expelling all her doubts, worries and fears with it. She’d have to face them later, and she knew that. She was even ready for it…

But not yet.

“You okay?” Oliver whispered.

Felicity nodded, grasping his face with a quiet plea. “Don’t stop.” She kissed him again. It seared through her, stealing her breath away. “Don’t stop.”

With a groan, his lips fell on hers again in a deep kiss. He slid his hand between her thighs and she instantly opened herself for him. Felicity hooked her leg over his, spreading her thighs even further. She reveled in the press of his hardness against her hip and the needy moan he gave her.

His fingers moved with an expertise that was spellbinding as he drank from her lips. He dipped into the wetness waiting for him between her legs, gliding over the little bundle of nerves to find her entrance. He pushed the tip of his fingers inside her, wetting them before he focused her clit.

She wasn’t nearly as ready as she thought she was.

Felicity ripped her mouth from his with a loud cry that echoed through the bunker. He didn’t stop, circling the little bud before brushing his fingers over it. Felicity gasped, floundering, grabbing onto him as tight as she could. The pleasure was sharp and urgent, slicing through her core with a fire that was almost too much. He leaned over her, his heavy pants for air matching hers as he kissed her cheek and jaw, dragging his lips down her throat. Her head fell back over his arm where she was pillowed, giving him all the access he could want.

When his lips found her collarbone, she nearly came undone.

She was unbelievably tender from earlier, but it wasn’t just that. After the months it took her to get all her sensation back, only she had touched herself. Only she knew the new ways her body responded, the new sensations and how the tiniest things were different now. Only she knew that deep in the night she thought about his hand replacing hers, his lips tasting her, his whispered words filling her ears as she reached completion. She’d never thought she would get this again, even when she’d found herself wondering these last few weeks.

It was that as much Oliver rediscovering her as much as it was the man she loved filling her with pleasure until she was going to burst.

Oliver dropped slow, wet kisses down her chest, leaving a trail of burning awareness behind him. He took his time, rubbing gentle circles around her clit. He wasn’t pushing her to the edge yet, he wanted to prolong this… and god, she wanted him to.

She wanted this to last forever.

Felicity wound her fingers through his hair, watching him work his way towards her breasts.

Memories of all the other times he’d done this whipped through her. He’d spent so much time making sure she felt as good as he possibly could, and that hadn’t changed. The only difference now was that she _could_ feel his fingers where he rubbed her clit along with his tongue where he dragged it up the gentle mound of her breast.

“Oliver…” He wrapped his lips around her nipple again, swirling his tongue around it. She let out a stuttered breath, arching her back to get closer to him. He did it again before capturing the bud between his teeth and dragging his tongue over the tip. It always drove her absolutely wild and this time was no different. “ _Ooh_ god!” He did it again, _harder_ , and it pushed her past the slow pleasure his fingers were bringing her to an urgent need that burned in the pit of her stomach. She pressed her breast further into his mouth, her hips rocking against his hand. “Harder… harder, please…”

He complied, stiffening his fingers and tongue at the same time. Felicity cried out and he moved faster, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of her breast. She shuddered, gripping his hair tighter. He grunted, but he didn’t relent and neither did she.

Her sounds of pleasure filled the room, growing louder, becoming more desperate.

Without warning Oliver cupped her sex and slid two fingers into her wet channel, pressing the heel of his hand to her clit.

“Oh _god_!” Felicity whimpered, nodding rapidly.

He thrust his fingers into her and she met every single one. Pleasure coiled in her core, spiraling out in white hot bursts.

Oliver kissed his way down her breast before nipping at the tender band around her abdomen.

Pleasure shot through her so hard and fast that she almost came. His name fell from her in breathless pants, her nails digging into his scalp, her hips thrusting up. Some part of her was vaguely aware that he was going to work his way down to take her into his mouth… Just the thought had her shuddering, her hips jerking up in quick, hard thrusts… But she also wasn’t ready to let him go. Because she couldn’t or she didn’t want to, she wasn’t sure, but when he tried to pull his arm out from under her head so he could move further down, she tugged on his hair, urging him back up to her.

“Oliver,” she whispered, not bothering to hide the pained need in her voice. “ _Oliver_ …”

He was hovering over again before she could blink. He curled around her protectively, his arm cradling her shoulders, and she instantly pulled his lips to hers.

The moan he gave her sent her even higher.

 _More_.

One of her hands fell down to where his was still buried between her legs. She pushed him in further, harder, grinding against him.

The need for oxygen was too much and when she ripped her lips from him, Oliver pulled back to look at her.

To _watch her_.

It was the most erotic thing he could do.

Her pleasure spiked as they watched each other, her inner walls convulsing around him. Never taking his eyes off her, Oliver pressed his hand down harder against her clit. Her face slackened, her mouth falling open, her breaths dissolving in tiny cries.

“Felicity…” His voice was so soft, so intimate, and she suddenly felt so cherished that tears blurred her vision. She stared into his eyes, his love an anchor as her precipice rapidly approached. His face wavered with an uneven, “Felicity… I…”

 _I love you_.

She fell to pieces with a breathless cry, flying apart at the seams. Felicity pushed his fingers in as deep as she could as waves of pleasure crashed through her. She finally collapsed against him, digging her face into his chest, closing her thighs around their hands.

Oliver whispered to her, kissing the top of her head, her temple, her forehead, saying things that filled her with happiness as much as sadness. A tear escaped and she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing a trembling kiss to his star tattoo.

_Oh, Oliver… I love you. I love you so much._

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his lips back to hers. The kiss was instantly electric. Oliver pulled his fingers free and hugged her, smearing her wetness all over her back. She unhooked her leg and rolled towards him, mewling when his erection brushed against her.

_I need you._

She tugged on him, trying to get him to roll on top of her, but he didn’t budge. She wrapped herself around him, both of them gasping when the new angle had his hardness sweeping over her tender sex. He gripped her tight, his fingers digging in too hard when she rolled her hips into him.

Oliver broke free with a shaky breath, shoving his forehead into hers.

And then he pulled away.

Despite herself - despite her common sense - Felicity’s heart slammed into the ground. “Where’re you going?”

“I’m getting us some blankets,” he replied, kissing her. He smoothed his hand over her back and down her backside. “These mats are too damn rough. They’re leaving marks on you. I’ll be right back.”

Her heart swelled at his concern, but before she could tell him she really, _really_ didn’t mind, he was already on his feet and disappearing downstairs.

For a long moment, Felicity didn’t move. She stayed right where she was, sprawled on the floor. She didn’t want to break the spell…

But time always won.

She slowly sat up.

The burns the training mat had left made themselves known and she winced as she pulled her legs against her chest.

The scent of their lovemaking distracted her.

Her sex throbbed and her thighs slid together, slick with her juices as much as his. She ran a hand through her hair, smoothing down the tangled mess in the back. She took a deep breath, waiting for the onslaught she’d felt earlier, except…

Except amazingly enough, she was suddenly _calm_. Calmer than she had been before, at least.

Was this normal?

Felicity snorted. She hadn’t really ever experienced this before - it wasn’t every day you had sex with your ex-fiancee whom you were still in love with. Come to think of it, almost everything she’d experienced with Oliver was new.

So why not this?

It didn’t hurt nearly as much thinking about him as her ex. Because that’s what he was. He was still _Oliver_ \- he would always be that, no matter what - but now that she was sitting in the middle of the bunker surrounded by their discarded clothes and empty wine bottles, she felt…

She felt like she had before tonight even began.

_Nothing had changed._

That thought wasn’t nearly as bitter as it had been. As much as wishful thinking had acid replacing her blood, they still had the same problems as before.

Felicity closed her eyes.

So what now? What happened next?

Oliver was back before she could answer that.

He carried more than a few blankets and she smiled. His own smile lit up his face at the sight of hers, his slowly growing into a toothy grin. She watched him as he spread a blanket out. He was unabashedly naked. His arousal stood tall, swaying with his movements. A dull spike of desire sliced through her core, but it wasn’t just _seeing_ him naked. She wouldn’t call it confidence that let him walk around the way he did. No, it was _comfort_. He was comfortable around her. She’d seen so many of his scars, seen so much of the darkest parts of him.

There was no reason to hide from her, not anymore.

Which made the reminder that he still hid parts of himself all the more jagged.

_No, not yet._

Felicity was silent as he laid down again. He dropped one of the blankets down for a pillow and handed her one before draping the other over himself. He settled back and opened his arms to her.

Her heart clenched at he smile he gave her. Tears burned her eyes again and she bit the inside of her lip hard to keep them back.

And then she crawled towards him.

Oliver opened the blanket and she slipped inside. But instead of snuggling in, she climbed on top of him, brushing her hair behind her ear so she could see him. Surprised delight colored his features, quickly morphing into a soft whisper of need when she readjusted so his hardness was pressed right against her sex. His lips parted with a stilted sigh as he grasped her waist. He stared up at her, his eyes open and guileless, letting her dictate the terms this time.

A bone-deep ache filled her.

Reality continued to push against the boundaries of the quickly dissolving bubble around them, but she continued to ignore it, focusing on him.

_One last time._

His brow furrowed. “Hey, are-”

Felicity kissed him before he could finish.

She poured every ounce of feeling she could into it, urging him to feel how much she loved him.

How much she would  _always_ love him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/165726148034/hunger-5x20-explicit-89-title-from-hunger-by)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.


	18. Hunger (5x20 Missing Scene, 9/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing scenes from 5x20 "Underneath" - 9/9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I am raising the rating for this chapter to Explicit!**
> 
> Written for Jesi!
> 
> Thank you for the response to this series!! I hope you guys enjoy my final installment.

With every kiss - every touch, every breath - she poured life into him.

They drank from each other, the kisses varying from soft touches to pure passion that had him arching off the mat to get closer to her, his tongue tangling with hers. Her hips rotated and his arousal slipped through hers, making them both gasp. His hands had a life of their own as they swept up her back and around to cup her breasts. He pressed them together, squeezing them. Her movements faltered, especially when his thumbs grazed her hardening nipples. She shuddered, and he did it again, catching one of them with the edge of his nail.

Felicity broke away with a breathy whine. She bowed her head, rocking against him…

_No, I want to see you._

He cupped her jaw, but she was already two steps ahead.

In a move so practiced it was damn near second nature the head of his erection found her wet entrance. Oliver’s eyes fluttered shut as Felicity whimpered, her nails digging in. His eyes snapped back open, instantly finding hers. The instant they connected, she thrust down, taking him inside her in one swift move. With a whispered curse, Oliver fell back against the mat, his hands sliding around her to hold on. She was so damned wet and ready. Her inner walls held him snugly, _perfectly_. He held her tighter, needing her closer.

“Felicity…”

At the sound of his voice she let out a desperate little sound, one that he felt on a visceral level, just before her mouth found his. She grasped his jaw, angling his head to deepen the kiss. It elicited an instinctive moan from him that only made her kiss him harder. It was sexy as hell and he melted into it…

But something was _different_.

He felt it in the way she held him, in the way she tasted him. She rocked against him, but all her energy was focused on where their lips met.

Oliver cupped her face, trying to pull her back so he could see her eyes, but she wasn’t having it. She held him down instead, taking her fill. Usually he would be all too content to let her do whatever she wanted…

But right now she was kissing him like she was saying goodbye.

Something deep inside him cracked.

_No, not yet, not yet._

As if she could hear his thoughts, Felicity pulled away with a soft cry. His heart stopped and he moved to follow her, but she pushed up off his chest so she was sitting on him.

The blanket fell away and despite himself, his gaze slipped down, traveling over her heaving chest and flushed skin. Her dusky nipples stood tall and the slope of her stomach was soft, leading down to where he was buried deep inside her. He grasped her hips and she slid even closer, straddling him fully. Her lids were heavy with desire, her lips parted in a pant, her cheeks a gorgeous pink that made his gut clench. He met her gaze and her pupils blew wide…

Pain flashed through her eyes, so fast he barely caught it. She slammed them shut before he could see anymore, throwing her head back.

She was severing their connection already.

“ _No_ ,” he rasped.

Oliver sat up and wrapped his arms around her.

Felicity jumped. Her hips stilled, her breaths coming out in startled bursts. Her hands fumbled to push him back down, but it was like she couldn’t do it. Or wouldn’t, because a split second later she was clinging to him.

God, she was trembling.

Dread flooded him and he cupped her face with a whispered, “Felicity…”

_Talk to me._

Her eyes fluttered open and he thought she might. He saw the flicker in them as she stared at him, the furrow between her brow, the way her lips stuttered like they always did when she wanted to tell him what was on her mind.

But just as quickly as it’d been there, it was gone. She closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath.

He forced himself to wait, telling himself things were okay - they would be okay, because they had to be - but when she opened her eyes again a thin sheen of tears waited for him. His insides seized with fear and he whispered her name, wanting to take them away so bad it burned. The soft smile that touched her lips did nothing to keep the urge at bay.

“Hey,” he breathed.

“I’m okay,” she said, touching his face.

Oliver swept his thumbs over her cheeks. “You sure?”

Felicity nodded. “Yeah. It’s just…” She pressed her forehead to his. “It’s a lot.”

It was. What was happening right now, it was more than a lot. And it wasn’t a cure-all. It wasn’t going to magically make all their problems disappear, and it wasn’t going to fix everything that was wrong between them. And it didn’t mean that something wasn’t _changing_. A door was opening, one they’d both long thought closed. What that might mean was more terrifying than exciting, considering everything…

Almost as terrifying as the tiny ray of hope that’d been glimmering inside him for weeks now.

“Felicity…”

She shook her head. “We’re okay,” she whispered.

She was saying it for him as much as for herself. A tug in his chest told him the truth, but it was dulled, far away… and he let himself ignore it.

Felicity cradled his face, touching him so lovingly that his chest ached. She kissed him once, twice, letting out a breathy sigh against his lips. He wondered if he really heard the near silent, “Love me,” on her lips or if that was his own desperate need for this to never end.

Either way he did.

He loved her.

Oliver kissed her back and she shuddered. The tension slipped away and suddenly it was just them again, in this moment, together.

They held each other, as close as they possibly could…

And then they started moving again.

The angle was different, deeper, stealing away both their ability to move much. But he was more than okay with that because this…

It was better.

A slow, simmering pleasure suffused every inch of him. It throbbed, taking its time, filling him at the rate of molasses in the best way possible. His nerves were on fire, frazzled from the entire night, sensitive to every single touch. His fingers danced over her lower back, making her shiver, and she returned the favor, dragging her nails over his back, his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair.

Before he knew it, the familiar burn of white hot pleasure began at the base of his spine.

He tried to hold off, to focus on her…

But he was powerless against it.

Oliver hissed, his voice breaking, “ _Felicity_.”

All he could do was hang on, meeting her rolling hips with his own tiny thrusts. He didn’t realize he was making so many noises until his own low cries suddenly broke through the haze in his head.

That, and her whispered, “Yes, yes, yes,” as they moved together.

He dug his face into her neck, sliding his hands over her backside. He gripped her tight, angling her hips… just… right…

Oliver shuddered, pushing his face deeper against her throat, whispering her name over and over, a litany that only pushed him closer to the edge. Tiny pinpricks of light bursts against his lids and he stiffened, holding her, tighter, tighter…

Felicity whispered his name, and he heard the words she wouldn’t use clear as day.

Oliver came with a broken cry, spilling into her. She held him tight, holding him up as he fell apart in her arms. Her inner walls clenched around him, urging every last drop from him, riding his pleasure out until he had nothing left. He collapsed against her, shoving his face into her chest, his harsh gasps for air making her skin even damper than it already was.

She didn’t stop.

Her hips rocked faster, her breath picking up.

Satiation made him clumsy as he ran his hands up her spine, urging her towards her own completion. It wasn’t enough, though, not right now, not after before. She needed more, and judging by the way she dug her nails into his shoulder, she agreed. Her hand slid down to take care of herself, but Oliver was already moving. He pushed his hand between them, finding her clit.

“Ooh…!”

It wasn’t long before she was tumbling into oblivion. It wasn’t as powerful as her first two, but it was enough to make her moan desperately as every inch of her quaked, her inner walls rippling around him.

Oliver hugged her and she held him back just as fiercely, molding her body to his. Their lips found each other. Warmth radiated through him, from the power of her kiss as much as the weight of his love for her. When the need for oxygen became too much they pulled away, but they didn’t let go.

A comfortable silence draped the room… and something deep inside him shifted back into place.

The air slowly cooled around them, but they didn’t move. Their breathing evened out, their grips lessening just enough to touch each other softly. Their lips came together again, and again, gentle kisses that only later he would look back on and recognize as the bookends they were.

When she shivered, he remembered he’d gotten blankets.

“Hold on,” Oliver whispered before falling back. He laid down with his precious cargo, keeping her cradled as close as humanly possible. Gravity had other plans, though. When he slipped out of her, Oliver closed his eyes with a groan, frowning at the injustice. Felicity simply sighed, flexing her hips closer before rolling off of him.

And away.

Alarm stabbed him in the heart and his eyes snapped back open.

“Are you…” he started, but she was still right there.

Oliver sighed, shaking his head at himself. They helped each other with the blankets, covering naked limbs until all that was left was to close the space between them.He opened his arms to her and she instantly snuggled into his embrace, pillowing her head on his shoulder, tangling her legs with his. Her hair fell over his arm in soft waves, tickling him.

Her hand grazed over his chest and his hand met her’s halfway, lacing their fingers together.

The minutes ticked by. Bone-deep satisfaction slowly took over and he finally let himself relax. His eyes slipped shut as he held her tighter. He took a deep breath and when he let it out, all the residual tightness in his muscles evaporated.

 _They were okay._ As much as they could be, at least. They still had to talk, to figure out what this meant, but right now? They were okay.

Felicity brushed her thumb over his and he instinctively did the same to her.

“Promise me,” she said, two words that had his eyes snapping back open, his heart damn near jumping out of his chest before she finished with, “you’re not gonna tell anyone we had bunker sex. And by anyone I mean Curtis.”

He smiled.

“Because he’d never look at me the same,” Felicity added.

Oliver chuckled. “Are you sure? Because he had me pick up Chinese food and suggested wine. I’m pretty sure he was rooting for exactly this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/165797745944/hunger-5x20-explicit-99-title-from-hunger-by)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


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